24 Lost
by District11-Olive
Summary: Each year brings new heroes, villains, and tragedies. Each year washes away the memories of those that have been and replaces them with those that will soon be. What happens to those that are not remembered? They are lost. These are the tributes of the 38th Hunger Games. These are their stories.
1. 1 Lost

**1 Lost**

* * *

**Sariah, 15, District 9 Female**

Sariah's hand doesn't move from the icy glass as the platform raises her higher and higher. Tears stream down the girl's tan face, her eyes wide with fear of where she will be in just moments. As the dim room where she'd been prepared for the arena disappears, Sariah closes her eyes. She pictures District 9 and the house that she grew up in with her parents and five younger siblings. She remembers leaving the morning of the reaping with her brothers Benton and Hal, the only others that are old enough to fear the ceremony. Sariah had worn her mother's old blue dress, which was still too big for her but fit well enough with a piece of worn ribbon tied around her waist. Her father had told her that she looked so grown up, like a mirror of her mother with her thick, curly hair and big, golden eyes. She had kissed him on the cheek before running down the street to catch up with her brothers.

Sariah never imagined that she would leave District 9. It was all she had ever known with its endless sea of brown and beige fields dotted with the sun-faded hats of countless workers. She had just started working at a new farm down the street where she had been promised the same shifts as her parents. After a few years of her and Benton working opposite shifts than her parents, they were finally going to be able to have dinner together again. Things were getting better for her family and now she was never going to see them again.

Sariah opens her eyes and sees the Cornucopia spreading out in front of her. She had watched the beginning of the Hunger Games every year in her district square since she could remember, but she had never realized how big the structure truly was. It's enormous metal walls stretched endlessly in all directions with crates and bags filled with things that Sariah couldn't even imagine. She had tried to get familiar with the multitude of equipment and weapons that the tributes had been presented with during training, but it was just too much for Sariah to process in such little time. Unless you counted a rake, she had never even touched a weapon before a couple of days ago- and one of the trainers had told her that a rake didn't count.

The air is stiff with silence as all the tributes take in the vast arena. Each of their platforms hover on top of a thick island of wet tree leaves caked with mud. As the ground inches towards the Cornucopia the mud gets lighter, telling Sariah that it is probably dry and more solid. When she turns around, the ground melts into many shallow puddles of murky water with short tufts of greenery sprouting out of them. Fifty feet away the ground is shadowed with enormous trees with weeping branches, their leaves misted with fresh rain.

To Sariah the trees look foreign, not from anywhere close to District Nine if she had to guess. She has no desire to go anywhere near them, but she knows that those trees will offer some safety and that is where Griffith, her district partner, and her should be heading. There is nowhere to hide in the open space around the Cornucopia.

She turns back to look at the giant metal structure. Sariah knows that those crates and boxes are filled with things that could offer Griffith and her a chance, no matter how slight. She has never considered herself competition for the title of Victor, but in this moment with the timer counting down she realizes that she is not ready to die here. She points the toes of her thick rubber boots towards the metal beast and lets out a sighing breath.

The timer tells Sariah that there are less than thirty seconds remaining before the game will begin. Her breath comes in quick gasps and tears continue to drip silently from her chin onto the platform below. Sariah is not ready to give up but she knows that she will not be able to defeat the other tributes. They are bigger and braver than the short teenager would ever grow up to be. Her only hope is to avoid running into anyone in the dash to the Cornucopia. Get in and get out. As the timer counts down from ten, Sariah tries to blink the tears from her eyes and focus on something near the outer edge of the Cornucopia. She needs supplies, but she cannot risk going into the thick of the bloodbath. Not with the Career boy standing on the platform beside her. There is no doubt that he has already sized her up, thinking that the girl would be an easy first kill to get him into the swing things.

As the gong sounds, Sariah leaps from her platform along with the other tributes. Some head backwards into the swamp of trees and mud. Many, like her run, to the supplies and the enormous metal structure that watches over them. Sariah trains her eyes on a black bag striped with yellow fabric. It is larger than the ones closer to her, so she hopes that it will hold more supplies for her and Griffith. Some food, maybe something to collect water in. Dare she hope for a knife or something else that can protect her from the others?

As she passes by the smaller scatterings of supplies, someone tackles her from the side- someone big and wearing the same dark clothing as Sariah. Her breath is knocked from her chest and she is thrown to the ground easily. Sariah lifts her arms to protect her head, but they are knocked away by the older girl whose shiny, dark ponytail nearly touches Sariah's nose. _The District One girl_, Sariah remembers.

She screams as the dark-haired girl traps her arms at her sides, searching around her for Griffith, for anyone that can help her. One grabs at something beside them, placing her other hand around a fistful of Sariah's curly hair. Sariah wills her eyes to close but they remain open and staring as One arcs her arm parallel to the ground, slamming a candle-sized metal box against Sariah's temple.

Blackness soars across her eyes. And pain. More pain than the girl had ever felt in her short life. The only thing that can cut through the intolerable pain exploding across her head is the sound of screaming in her throat. Sariah tries to bring her hands to her head but they are unable to move, still pinned to her sides by the attacker. Another crack of pain pierces her head, then another. Then nothing.

The District One girl jumps up, judging the girl to be dead by the limpness of her arms and the way her neck tips her head up to the sky. The girl's brown eyes remain half-open, as if squinting at the dim sun that shines above the arena. Blood runs from the gaping cut on her forehead, coating her thick hair in red, and her skull dips in almost imperceptibly where the can had made contact. The girl scoffs at the body, tossing down the makeshift weapon and looking at the backs of other tributes as they sprint towards the towering stash of supplies.

_One down, _the District One girl smirks to herself, _only twenty-three to go_.

* * *

**1 Lost**


	2. 2 Lost

**2 Lost**

* * *

**Etan, 14, District 12 Male**

Etan thought that the worst day of his life had happened many years before now.

It was the day of his mother's birthday, a warm but rainy day at the beginning of September. Etan's family had never been wealthy enough to afford a celebration, but Etan and his sisters had spent hours bartering with the merchants over the worth of buttons and pins in the square to be able to afford a blueberry tart from the bakery as a present. They'd left the bakery that day with a small, berry-scented box and a four hearts swelling with pride. Etan had only been seven at the time. His sisters Adalie, Cara, and Livia had been twelve, eleven, and four. The way home had been uninteresting, even a little bit boring given the long day they'd had.

When they had arrived home, Etan remembered being the one to ask his father where his mother was. His mother rarely left the house, and when she did she always made sure to be home to make dinner. Etan remembers his father sitting them all down around their white kitchen table and telling them what had happened. Their mother had gone beyond the fence. Even his father didn't know why she went or what really happened to her, but she had been gone for hours before Etan and his sisters had gotten home. A neighbor that lived at the edge of the fence told them later that he had heard the splash of something big hitting water. Etan's father thinks she must have drowned.

No one had even tried to go after her to see. She could have lived. It could have been an animal that fell in the water, not his mother. His family had been convinced but Etan had never been certain what had happened that day.

Etan thought that the day that his mother disappeared would always be the worst day of his life. He was wrong. Today was far worse. While her disappearance had pulled at every piece of dread, curiosity, and sadness within him, Etan still believed that she could be alive somewhere and that hope made it bearable. Today, the deaths were certain, and they were horrifying. Uncertainty had been his worst enemy since Etan was seven years old, but now he knew that certainty could be even more terrifying.

When the gong had gone off, Etan had remained on the platform. To observers it appeared as if the young tribute was frozen in fear and unable to snap out of his terrified trance. However, Etan had remained on the platform for a far different reason that no one across Panem could have suspected.

He did not know whether he should run and live to die another day in this terrible place or fight for a better chance at both survival and an early death.

Now he was running out of time to choose. As the sounds of shifting crates and stomping feet claim the damp air around him, Etan knows that he must move now or die here. _Would dying here be so bad_, he thinks to himself. In an answer to his own question, Etan leaps from the platform and runs as fast as his mud-coated boots will carry him straight towards the hungry mouth of the Cornucopia.

A shriek fills the arena and all the tributes turn towards two girls on the ground. Bile rushes up into Etan's throat as he watches the larger girl tribute grab at a can nearby as she poses above the other girl. Forcing his head to the side, he continues running. Etan does not want to see what will happen next, or be next for that matter.

Silence overtakes the arena a few seconds later, once again wrapping itself snugly around Etan's throat. Etan stops suddenly and looks to both sides of the clearing. There are tributes everywhere, most scrambling to try to pick up the dense scattering of supplies. Others running in the opposite direction. Some already grabbing weapons and turning their attention to the other teenagers surrounding the metal giant.

Etan wants so badly to run but the supplies are so close he can almost touch them. He quickly scans the base of the Cornucopia and spots a small crate with the handle of a knife sticking out of the top of it. Etan didn't know very much about the array of weapons that had been shown to him during training, but he had used a knife several times to help his father butcher animals they'd found near the house. He had never used a knife against another person before, but it would be better to have something to protect himself than to have nothing.

Etan makes a dash for the crate. His hands wrap around the sides of the metal box at the same time that an icy pain shoots down the flesh of his back and encircles his abdomen. His entire body tenses and, even as fear envelopes him, he wills himself to turn around. However, his feet cannot or will not obey and Etan can only stare straight ahead as shivers take over his skin and his breath becomes lodged at the back of his throat.

A strong hand wraps itself around the back of his neck and pulls him backwards. Unable to even attempt to steady himself, Etan slumps backwards and his head lulls forward forcing his eyes to look down at the red spot blossoming across his stomach.

"Sorry kid, not your lucky day," a voice growls above him.

Etan is unable to look up at the voice, but he thinks that it must be male. All Etan can do is watch as blood colours the forest green t-shirt he'd been given earlier that day. Shivers continue to wash across his body and Etan coughs, his throat suddenly filled with metallic bile. The cough does nothing to clear his airway and an awful gurgling sound soon takes its place. Etan's eyes widen as he tries unsuccessfully to take a breath.

Frothy, red saliva slips down his chin and his chest heaves with the enormous effort it takes to try to breathe. Etan's arms flail out in an attempt to grasp at something, anything that will pull him out of this nightmare. A wet gasp forces its way past his lips but no air flows in. The dim sky above him blackens as Etan's body becomes still. As both his pain and his consciousness fade, there is no doubt in Etan's mind that he will never see a worse day than today.

* * *

**2 Lost**


	3. 3 Lost

**3 Lost**

* * *

**Hollis, 17, District 10 Male**

It is hard for Hollis to believe that it was only this morning that he woke up in that beautiful room in the Capitol. He and Brin, his district partner had said nothing as they choked back oatmeal that was caked with far too much ginger and not nearly enough sugar. Their mentors had said it would help calm their stomachs, which would let them concentrate when the time came. Hollis had tried to believe that this would be true.

The hovercraft ride to the arena had felt like an eternity. The time spent with his stylist and her team, even longer. The four women had chirped about what the outfit could mean about the arena design that year. He was given a deep green t-shirt that smelled like nothing and a pair of pants the same colour that contained nearly a dozen pockets. Hollis had hoped there would be something in the pockets, something so that he wouldn't have to go into the bloodbath at all. Of course, there hadn't been.

Hollis had spent what felt like hours having powders pressed into his cheeks and liquids sprayed into his hair. One of the stylists had even helped him into a pair of thick rubber boots that were nicer than any Hollis had ever seen in his life. His dad had a pair that just barely passed his ankles and were worn through at the toes and caked in mud. These almost reached Hollis' knees and were absolutely spotless.

The last thing he was given was a dark brown jacket with a shiny silver zipper at the front. Its hood wrapped snugly over the top of his head, but as soon as he had the hood up his lead stylist- Penelope- had pulled it back down.

"The hood will take away from your eyes," she had told him. "The Capitol already loves you. Don't forget to remind them why."

Hollis had made quite an impression on the Capitol and the surrounding Panem districts. He was from District Ten, a forgettable district going by every possible meaning of the word. Their Victors were few and far between and almost always painfully ordinary. His mentors Junie and Cai looked almost alike enough to be siblings. Brown hair and eyes, with tanned skin from being outside for most of their lives. Brin and nearly everyone else in the district looked just like them, but Hollis didn't. He had grey eyes that were nearly white and big enough to see clouds in and his hair was shaved so close to his head that its colour was almost imperceptible. His dark skin looked nearly black and provided the perfect canvas for his light eyes. The effect was striking. In District Ten, Hollis had always looked odd. His mother said that he often looked angry when he wasn't, and his half-siblings had laughed that he must have been left on their doorstep as a baby. Hollis always leaned into the oddity of his appearance, it was something he could share with his father and no one else.

The Capitol, however, loved his appearance. They fawned over Hollis, whispering that he looked tough and cold. They believed that he could be the Victor that District Ten needed. Someone interesting and different to set the district apart. They thought he could win. Hollis knew better.

As he runs with the other tributes towards the open mouth of the Cornucopia, Hollis had never been so terrified. Beside him, Hollis sees a short girl with brown curls as she is tackled to the ground by much taller girl. He jumps as he hears her scream, sending him hands first into the dirt. Hollis takes a quick breath and stumbles to his feet. He doesn't know how far he is planning on going, but he doesn't know what else to do but run.

"Far enough, _friend_," a male voice spits as Hollis reaches the tall crates at the mouth of the metal giant. Hollis turns to see Lee, the hulking boy from District Four. The same tribute that had offered him entry into the Career alliance. The same tribute that Hollis had rejected, knowing that outer district tributes almost never lasted in the group. Hollis had no skills to offer them, failing to get even mediocre at any of the weapons presented during training. The Capitol's reaction to him made him seem valuable to the Careers, but he knew he would not be able to hold their attraction for long.

"Lee," Hollis says in between quick breaths. He is not used to running this fast or this far. Hollis spends most of his days meandering behind cattle making sure that none got left behind in the fields. This isn't what he was made for. "Good to see you."

Saying nothing more, the Career boy lunges forward grabbing at the neck of Hollis' jacket. Both boys go down as Hollis' heel catches the backside of a crate. Hollis reaches out and his fist catches the Career boy's nose. Lee doesn't even flinch, instead landing a hard blow to Hollis' jaw followed by another across his nose.

Blood drips into Hollis' mouth and he spits it up at the Career boy. Lee snarls, wiping the red froth from his cheek, and shoves Hollis's back into the ground. Hollis gasps out a breath and pushes as hard as he can against the boy's chest. Lee's hardened eyes don't leave Hollis, punching him once more and feeling a crack under his fist. Hollis stifles a scream, flailing his arms out in front of him but not making any contact with the boy.

Lee scoffs as he smacks the boy's hands back down to the ground. "Not so tough now, are you Ten?"

Hollis spits up at the boy again, his grey eyes barely slits as the swelling overtakes them. "Never said I was tough."

The Career boy turns as the sound of screaming rises up around him. The bloodbath, the bloodbath of _his _Hunger Games, is finally beginning after so many years of waiting and he is wasting time on one tribute. Hollis' fate had been decided days earlier after he rejected their offer of alliance and Lee did not feel sorry for being the one to carry it out. This was only a game after all, and one that Lee intended to play very well.

"You could have been one of us, Ten," Lee says, shaking his head. "Too bad you missed your chance."

Lee doesn't give Hollis an opportunity to answer. He pulls a knife, its blade hardly as long as his palm, out of the sleeve of his jacket and pushes a hand against Hollis' forehead, driving it further into the ground. Any last words that might have slipped past the boy's lips are cut short as Lee drives the blade into the middle of the boy's throat.

Hollis' bright eyes widen against the swelling as pain shoots down his throat and into his chest. The Career boy stands above him, a slight glimmer in his cold eyes as he reaches down and pulls the blade from Hollis' neck. Blood sprays from the wound, splashing against the clean green of Lee's pants. Lee casts a disgusted look down as his ruined clothes before he stalks away. There is nothing more for him to do here.

* * *

**3 Lost**


	4. 4 Lost

**4 Lost**

* * *

**Ita, 18, District 12 Female**

Ita had never really understood the Hunger Games as being, well, real before. She had watched all the mandatory viewings of the games in the District Square and during school for as long as Ita could remember, but it was impossible to think of the figures on the screen as people. Ita had never known anyone that was reaped. District Twelve was impossibly large and she mostly kept to herself. No one in her family had ever been reaped that she knew of. All her friends had always been safe. Sure, the Hunger Games had happened every year, but for Ita life went on.

When her name had been called, Ita had not really believed that it could actually her that had been chosen. Her face had wrinkled in confusion as her neighbors had turned to look at her with horror reflected in their eyes. It had taken her several moments before she thought to move towards the stage at all. Taking the escort's gloved hand had felt like a dream to Ita, saying goodbye to her family minutes later had felt like a nightmare. Ita hadn't cried or begged for them to stay with her. She had stood motionless as her older brother wrapped her in a tight hug and as her mother had fallen to her knees in front of her. It's not that she didn't care that she was leaving, it's just that she didn't really believe it.

The night of the Chariot Rides when Ita had first met her stylist, Hadriana, was the first time it felt real to her. Hadriana was the strangest looking woman that Ita had ever seen. She had hair so light it looked like snow cascading down her back in thick waves, and eyes the same colour with a wide, black pupil dotting the middle of them. She'd worn a dress that looked like wraps of white cloth that only reached the tops of her thighs and contrasted against her dark skin. The woman did not even look human if you asked Ita.

Hadriana had dressed Ita in a heavy black dress powdered with real coal. _Straight from District Twelve_, Hadriana had told her with a wide grin. Her straight brown hair had been darkened even further with more coal brushed through it and her lips had been painted with some kind of gel that made them that same dark colour. Looking in the mirror, Ita had not recognized herself. The creature in the mirror was horrifying and beautiful and nothing like the plain girl from District Twelve that would rather stare up at the stars than do her chores.

Looking at herself, Ita saw the other tributes. The ones from past years that she thought looked like they must have come from the Capitol and not from the districts at all. Ita saw the wide eyes and open mouths that had marked the tributes from District Twelve as what they truly are- dead children walking. She looked at the contours of her face and saw the girl from last year with her rosy cheeks and forced smile. She saw the girl from two years ago with her straight brown hair and thick eyebrows. Ita remembered the days watching them in the Capitol after they'd left District Twelve, and the first day in the arena when both girls had been killed.

Ita felt connected to them as she stared at her own image in the mirror and that had struck fear into every part of her trembling body.

However, she could not have even imagined the fear that encompassed her now. Ita grabs a backpack that is only ten or so feet away from the platform she had stood on only a minute earlier. She considers whether she should be going in further. She had watched Etan jump off his platform a few seconds ago, launching himself into the thick of the bloodbath without a second though.

_Am I being cowardly_, she asks herself, _and is that such a bad thing if I am?_

She scans the clearing one more time, trying to look for Etan to see if he is getting out yet. Ita knows that she will not be venturing further in. She is not nearly as brave as Etan or as her brother would have been if he were here. Wren would have been right in there with Etan, battling for the supplies that would keep them alive in this place. Ita turns away from the sounds of fighting, the screeching of crates being moved and the screaming of tributes being slain. She iss not brave like them, but maybe running would still be enough to live another day.

As she turns to leave, Ita sees a flash of metal just before pain explodes at the top of her ankle. Almost immediately she is on the ground, her gasping breaths masking any scream that may have tried to escape her lips. Ita looks up and sees someone running towards her, but their form is blurry thanks to the tears filling her eyes. She tries to get to her feet but only manages to scramble onto all fours. She crawls desperately across the dirt floor, her ankle protesting the entire way.

Ita has hardly made it a couple of feet before another knife lodges itself in her side, forcing the girl to the ground. She barely has time to register the pain before a final blade embeds itself in the girl's eye, slicing cleanly into the back of her eye socket. The girl's hands fall to the ground, her entire body following suit to slump against the dirt.

A short girl with dark blonde hair and light green eyes strides over to Ita's body. She quickly pulls the knives from the older girl's body- abdomen first, then eye- before cutting the bag from her back. _It's tiny seeing, but it could still hold something useful,_ the girl thinks to herself. She smirks as she leans down a few feet away to pick up the knife that the dead tribute had managed to dislodge from her ankle. She wasn't about to leave behind any scraps for the other tributes to pick up. She was trying to win the Hunger Games, not run a charity for the outer district nobodies.

* * *

**4 Lost**


	5. 5 Lost

**5 Lost**

* * *

**Lennox, 17, District 3 Male**

Lennox had never known a situation that he could not get out of, well at least he hadn't until earlier this week. He had been born to the mayor of District Three, one of the most powerful men in the district and the one solely responsible for some of the most important decisions concerning its operations. As an only child Lennox's parents had doted on him, always making sure that their little boy was happy and had everything he could dream of. Lennox hadn't ever wished for something that his father couldn't deliver to him. His life had been nearly perfect.

However, Lennox knows that he had been far from the perfect son. He loves his parents, Lennox hopes that his parents know this, but he had always been too _something_. Too busy to have dinner with them. Too tired to take a walk around the district after school with them. Lennox had always had an excuse to avoid spending time with his parents. He had never been outwardly rude to them or tried to hurt them in any way, but Lennox now realizes how precious that time spent together would have been.

It's true that Lennox's father had gotten him out of some sticky situations, especially in the last few years. Lennox wasn't a bad kid, but he had always had a smart mouth and a cocky sense of entitlement that many around him found… irritating to say the least. In fact, there had been an instance just a couple weeks before the reaping ceremony when Lennox's father had been called in to school after he'd mouthed off at his teacher for calling him a brat. Sure, Lennox had gotten a talking to once he got home that day, but a visit from the mayor was enough to get most teachers off his case. Lennox didn't have to worry about getting kicked out of school or getting in trouble with the district's Peacekeepers. He had his father to thank for that.

Now Lennox would never see his parents again. He would never see District Three again or laugh with his friends on the way to school. He would never get a job or get the chance to take over for his father once he got too old to be mayor. He would never be able to show or tell his parents how much they mean to him. He would never have time to make up for all of his past mistakes.

Lennox wishes more than anything that he had taken the time to really talk to his parents after the reaping. His father hadn't been there to visit him because he was trying to get in touch with the Capitol. He was trying to save his son, just like he always did, but he had no power over the Capitol or the Hunger Games. Lennox's mother had been the only one there, but Lennox couldn't even attempt to tell her any of these things that now weigh on his mind. He had just put his head in his hands and sobbed as his mother wrapped her arms around his chest and did the same. Her tears had left a stain on his tie that hadn't dried up until he had nearly arrived in the Capitol.

Lennox had never been good at staying quiet, but throughout his short stay in the Capitol he had barely said a word to anyone. Not to his mentors, not to his district partner Emerysn, and not to any of the other tributes. At home it had been almost impossible to keep the jokes and snide comments from rolling off his tongue. In the Capitol this couldn't be further from the truth. Nearly all of Lennox's attempts at conversation had ended with tears welling up in his eyes and him excusing himself to his room.

As he watches the tributes rush towards the arena's many supplies, Lennox hesitates. Suffocating in his thoughts since the reaping, he had never had time to consider any sort of strategy for when he would actually get to the arena. After a moment, he too leaps from his platform and joins the other tributes in a mad dash towards the giant metal structure ahead of him. Lennox does not recognize a lot of the weapons scattered around its mouth, but at this point anything is better than nothing. Ten or so feet away, he spots what looks like an oversized bread knife, only much sharper, and decides this is something he might be able to handle.

As Lennox reaches for the knife, so too does another hand. He slaps the hand away and grips the handle tightly. The other tribute, a boy with narrow dark eyes and shaggy hair, scrambles backwards and grabs something else nearby. For a moment Lennox thinks he might have to engage the boy, but the boy takes two quick steps backwards before turning around to run towards the weeping trees.

Lennox agrees with this strategy and turns in the opposite direction to make his own escape. The colour drains from his cheeks as he nearly runs straight into one of the Career boys. Lennox doesn't remember any of their names, but he knows that this one is from District One. He has short cropped blonde hair and dull grey eyes, but the feature that most stands out to Lennox is the machete clasped in the boy's fist.

The knife in his hand becomes suddenly far too heavy to hold and it drops to the ground beside Lennox as his mouth falls open. Nothing runs though his mind, not a comment or a joke and certainly not a strategy for how he was going to get out of this situation. Not even his father would be able to get him out of this. Lennox knows that he is on his own, and he also knows that on his own he is only marginally better than useless to defend himself.

An amused grin spreads across the Career boy's face as he quickly closes the distance between Lennox and himself. The arm holding the machete arcs back then drives straight into Lennox's abdomen. A gasp escapes his lips and his lip quivers, but Lennox is unable to even will himself to scream. The Career boy holds his gaze and, as his smile widens, twists the knife within his stomach.

Pain takes over his entire body, causing his limbs to fall limply beside his body and his head to roll backwards. There is nothing except pain and the blackness that creeps in from the sides of his vision.

The Career boy removes the knife from the boy's flesh and releases his grip, allowing the boy to fall unceremoniously to the ground. Lennox twists himself around the wound, clutching at his stomach and choking on the bile that rushes up into his throat. He tries to look around him, but the blackness cannot be beaten back from in front of his eyes. Instead of forming a cry for help, his gasps become a thick gurgling noise that everyone around him either cannot hear or has chosen to ignore.

* * *

**5 Lost**


	6. 6 Lost

**6 Lost**

* * *

**Alek, 16, District 8 Male**

Alek had never thought of himself as anything besides average. His life in District Eight was exceedingly average. His parents and siblings were just as average. Hell, even his dreams were aspiringly average. Before this week, Alek had planned to finish this year of school, probably get taken on full time by the linin factory he worked at, and if he was lucky start a family of his own someday. Nothing else seemed like a possibility. His life had always been average.

Today, however, was anything but average.

Alek had been woken up by a knock from his twenty-something year old mentor, strapped into a seat on an aircraft, and whisked away to be prepared to die in front of his entire nation. As he had tried not to be sick on the flight over, Alek had prepared himself for this simple fact. Once he was inside the arena, he would not be leaving alive. He would never have the job or family that he had always assumed he would have. He would never even see the end of the school year.

His stylist had preened and prodded him all morning, never seeming to be satisfied but eventually giving up on making Alek any more appealing to the Capitol audience. Catalina, the young stylist assigned to Alek, talked endlessly about the boy from District Ten and wondered aloud how they could have chosen someone so plain and expected her to get him sponsors. Alek wondered similarly about how he could have been chosen over all the other boys in District Eight.

It was selfish to think, but to a boy on the brink of death it didn't matter. Alek had wished all morning that it would have been someone else chosen at the reaping. It didn't change a thing really, and only functioned to make him think even worse of himself. Maybe this was why he was chosen, he even thought for a moment as Catalina snipped at his fingernails, because he somehow deserved it more than all those other boys.

Now, as Alek toys with the collar of his jacket inside of the rising glass box, he tries to hold onto the possibility that somehow, he will be able to make it out of here. He isn't sure what he is going into, but he knows that beyond anything else he wants to get out. As much as he hates the woman, as Catalina's annoyed expression disappears and he becomes surrounded by darkness, Alek hopes that he will live to see her again.

As the darkness begins to dissipate, Alek can't help but gasp. Never in his life had he seen a world like the one that is starting to open up around him. It is vibrant with thousands of different shades of green and brown, each one so saturated with colour that they couldn't possibly be real. The sound of birds cawing scratch at the edges of his thoughts and the air feels wet as it fills his nose. The ground beneath his platform is a dark kind of dirt that Alek knows is probably soft and soaked through with rain. Finally his eyes fixate on the Cornucopia which sits at the center of it all, bigger that it has ever appeared on the screens in his district and overflowing with all the supplies that a tribute could need to survive in this eerie place.

Other than the birds that continue to laugh somewhere in the distance, quiet settles around Alek as he struggles with what he knows must happen. During those nights alone in the Capitol, Alek had resolved himself to the fact that he was going to have to go in to get supplies. The Bloodbath, everyone called it, and Alek had somehow convinced himself that this was his best chance. Now, as he stared down the enormous structure in front of him and saw the other tributes at the edges of his vision, Alek wasn't so sure this was the way to go.

The hollow tone of the timer begins to sound, and Alek can feel every beat echo in his chest. Ten seconds. Alek tries to think, part of him trying to reason that running is the only way to survive the day and the rest of him trying not to shake what remains of his courage. As the gong sends the tributes into motion, instinct pulls Alek towards the Cornucopia and towards the fighting that has already begun. Alek tries not to look anywhere but forward, though he doesn't yet have a destination in mind.

Finally, he spies a large, navy backpack and a knife longer than his forearm both resting against a nearby crate. As soon as his hand reaches for the strap of the bag, Alek sees another flushed hand grab at the handle of the knife. Immediately, Alek tries to smack the knife away from the other boy who uses the blade to block Alek's hand. Blood oozes from the shallow wound between his thumb and index finger, but Alek doesn't even flinch. Adrenaline comes in shockwaves as he pushes the boy hard against the crate and manages to topple the boy to the ground. The boy's green eyes grow wide as Alek tries to reach again for the knife in his hand. Alek isn't sure why he doesn't just take the backpack and run, but suddenly he feels like he _needs_ this weapon and he isn't about to leave without it.

Alek grasps one hand across the boy's neck and the other tries to get a grip on the knife's handle. The shock on the boy's face contorts into fear and he uses an arm to scratch at Alek's grip on his neck and the other, still gripping the knife with every bit of his strength, thrusts blindly towards Alek.

Unlike the stinging on his hand, Alek is unable to ignore the pain that erupts in his shoulder as the knife plunges through his skin. Alek yells out and releases his grasp on the boy's neck, allowing him to jump to his feet to try to run off. Even now, with blood flowing between his fingers, Alek is unwilling to convince himself to let him go. He has never felt this blatant anger before, but he knows that he _needs_ supplies, he _needs_ to live, and this boy is trying to take that away from him.

Alek lunges at the boy from the ground, grimacing at the pain that shoots through his shoulder. The boy tries to shove Alek off him, but Alek is a big guy and strong from years of factory labor. The boy stumbles as he continues to try running, but as he realizes that Alek isn't about to let go his gaze returns to the knife still clutched tightly in his hand. With a grunt he slashes upward with the blade, slicing at the fabric of Alek's t-shirt and the tissue beneath it. When Alek doesn't immediately release him, the boy slices at him again, and then again.

Alek lets go of the boy, but even on the ground the knife pierces through his clothing again and again. He reaches up to shield his face from the attacks, no longer able to move the muscles in his legs or even attempt to sit back up. Breathing suddenly feels impossible, something invisible twisting his lungs so that no air may enter them. He can no longer feel where the pain is coming from, he can only know that it is overwhelming. Alek can feel liquid dripping down onto his face, some of it sliding past his lips into his mouth. As he tries to force a breath, all he can manage is a series of choking coughs. He opens his eyes and can see the boy's boots sloshing through the mud just before the blood dripping from arms paints his vision red.

* * *

**6 Lost**


	7. 7 Lost

**7 Lost**

* * *

**Griffith, 14, District 9 Male**

Even using every bit of his concentration, as Griffith gets his first real look at the arena, he is unable to keep his lip from quivering. His hands fly automatically to his face, covering his disobedient mouth with trembling fingertips. If the camera is able to pick up on his fear, Griffith doesn't think that his parents will ever be able to forgive him. He must cover up his anxiety, to save as much face as he can, or even in death Griffith will have managed to disappoint them.

The morning of the Reaping had not been all that different than the years prior. Griffith grimaced at the clothing that had been hung on his closet by his mother but put them on without so much as a comment. An itchy brown jacket with pockets that were sewn together and useless. A pair of shoes that had been freshly shined the night before at his mother's request. He combed his hair and washed his face, ensuring to get behind his ears as he has always been told. Before Griffith entered the kitchen for breakfast, he even re-polished the tops of his shoes knowing they'd lost their shine.

His parents were owners of one of the larger mills in the district and had even forged relationships with many of the higher-ups in District 9. Image is everything to them. It's what they've built their lives on even coming from one of the poorer districts in Panem. _It's not where you're from but what you show the world_, that's what his father always told him. Griffith and his sister Lyra were extensions of their parents, so they have been brought up to show the world perfection.

Even after the Reaping, when Griffith was led into a small building behind the District Square to say his goodbyes, he dared not cry or even tremble. Griffith had been terrified, truly terrified, for the first time in his life. Small parades of people came and went, wishing Griffith luck and shedding knowing tears, but Griffith did dare not let his fear show. It was only when his parents and Lyra finally entered the room, clothing still perfectly unwrinkled and faces stoic, that Griffith broke down. Tears streamed down his face, sobs coming in waves as he ran to hug his mother. He pleaded with his father to do something. He told them that he didn't want to leave them, that he didn't want to die.

"I'm sorry son," he had said, a weak smile straining to cross his lips. "I can't do anything to stop this."

Griffith had buried his head in his mother's blouse, tears leaving behind watery stains that he knew she would have to scrub out tonight. She had allowed this for a short moment before peeling herself away from him.

"You're stronger than this, Griffith," she'd sighed. "There is no need to act like a child."

"Your mother's right," his father continued. "We can't do anything about this, but you can decide what to show the world. We hope you would want to show them the poised young man we raised."

His family hadn't been able to stay much longer. The train had been already here and waiting for Griffith and the girl who'd been reaped alongside him. He met Sariah on the train for the first time. She was not from his part of the district and, even though she was similar in age to him, they'd run in different circles until the morning of the Reaping. After that morning, she became all that Griffith had.

During their days in the Capitol, Sariah and Griffith became very close. He guessed that knowing their fates were likely to be identical in less than a week expedited the process. Still, though, Griffith wished more than anything for his family. The last interaction he would be able to remember from them by was them, in their usual roundabout type of way, telling him that they were disappointed in him. The night before he was to be launched into the arena, Griffith swore to himself that his family would not see a disappointment when they watched in the morning. He would be strong. He would be composed.

However, as Griffith stands on his platform in the foreign landscape, he cannot shake the overwhelming feeling of fear that threatens to erase every lesson that his parents had ever taught him. He doesn't want to die. He is _terrified_ to die. The only thing that he wants is to run far away from this unnatural place, right back to District 9, and tell his parents how much he loves them. Griffith doesn't want the rules and the proper dialogue to dictate his life anymore. He wants to be with his family without the distance that's always separated them.

Sariah is so far away, but Griffith can see clearly where her feet are pointing. She is going in, just like they had talked about all week. Griffith is supposed to join her. Both will grab something small, something close to the platforms, and then get out. As Griffith looks at the supplies scattered about the Cornucopia, none of it looks close enough.

Zero. The sound of the gong resonates in his chest. Griffith summons every bit of nerve that he can and leaps from his platform along with the other tributes. He spies a bag that doesn't look too terribly far and he runs for it, willing the tears to remain tucked behind his eyes. Griffith is only steps away from the bag, considering whether it will be enough for him and Sariah, when his boot catches on the slick ground. He lands in the mud with a grunt, wincing as pain radiates from his ankle.

It only feels like seconds that Griffith is laying on the ground before he rolls to his knees and tries to get back upright. A pair of muddied boots are already nearly on top of him. His heart rises into his throat as he falls back onto his bottom. It's a girl, a Career girl, Griffith remembers her face from training. Her hair is pulled back from her face leaving her dark eyes to stare down at Griffith.

He slowly wills himself to move backward, the bag completely forgotten. Griffith knows that he needs to get out of here, but fear overrides any movement that he could try to make. Tears spill over his cheeks, blurring everything in his vision except for the silver spear in the Career girl's hand. He reaches up to wipe his eyes but only manages to smear mud across his eyelashes.

"Pathetic," the Career girl spits, pulling back on the spear before striking it down towards Griffith. He doesn't have time to feel the pain as the weapon punctures straight through his neck. He looks down as if in a trance as blood soaks the front of his clothing. He blacks out in seconds- tears and mud still mixing on his cheeks.

* * *

**7 Lost**


	8. 8 Lost

**8 Lost**

* * *

**Rainer, 17, District 6 Male**

It was becoming harder and harder for Rainer to think of himself as a good person.

It's been mere minutes since he entered this place and yet, somehow, the arena has already proven to Rainer what he fears most about himself. Sure life hasn't always been the kindest to him, and he has surely struck back at the worst of times, but he never had enough evidence to say with conviction that he is a bad person. That is, until today.

He's killed someone. Good people that have just been beaten down by a depressing district upbringing don't kill people. Evil, horrible, bad people do.

That must be who he is then.

When he had reached for the knife, Rainer had hardly even noticed the other boy. Then, he tried to take it from Rainer and Rainer just snapped. The knife was the first thing that had given him some hope in this place. Not food, not the bag laid across his back, but a knife. Rainer would need it to protect himself and Everly, his district partner from all of the things in this arena that were going to try to kill them. The knife was everything in that moment.

It meant more than that poor boy's life.

He has the knife, now, and Rainer knows that he must let what just happened go. This is the Hunger Games. He is _supposed _to fight for his life. Kill so that he isn't killed. The other tribute could have wanted to kill him, could have been trying to take the knife away so he could stab Rainer in the heart. He doesn't know that for a fact, but the thought makes him feel just a little bit better. Maybe a good person could kill in self defense? Somehow Rainer still doubts that.

Rainer has the supplies he needs, now he just has to find Everly. He told her to go to the nearest hiding spot she could find and wait. He would search for her. He would find her. Even when she offered, Rainer couldn't stomach the thought of her going into the Cornucopia to get supplies. _The Bloodbath_, he shudders. That shouldn't be a place for a kid, a twelve-year shouldn't be a place for Rainer either.

Rainer had never been able to think of himself as good. He was a bully and a thief back in District 6, just like his father. They didn't have anything and so they had to take what they needed from shops and from other people. His father told him that they were just good people that had fallen on hard times. That when they finally got up on their feet, they would do things the right way. He'd told Rainer that practically since Rainer was old enough to listen. He'd stopped believing him years ago.

From what he'd gathered from Everly, she was nothing like him. At twelve years old she was already working to help her family make ends meet. She was still in school even. She was actually doing things the right way, the way that Rainer's father had told him they would when they had the means. Everly and her family didn't sound like they had the means. They were all better people than his father could ever be. Better than Rainer himself could ever be.

Finally, Rainer spotted her. Everly, with her brown curls swept up into a ponytail on top of her head and clothed in the same thick linen that Rainer wore. Her head was popping out from behind a tree. She wasn't hidden at all, after all Rainer had spotted her easily from a few hundred feet away.

_Get down,_ Rainer mouths, looking around him to make sure that no one else had spotted his district partner. Everly gives him a shy smile and sinks down a bit further, her eyes still peeking back at him. Rainer huffs and starts to sprint towards her. She's so young, it isn't fair that she is in this place with Rainer and the others. Nothing about the Hunger Games is really fair, but her being locked in the arena with terrible people trying to kill her is the tipping point for Rainer. Maybe some of them deserve to be here, but not Everly. Never her.

As he sprints towards her, he can't help but wonder what will happen if he succeeds in this plan. What if at the end of the week it's Everly and him, the two left standing. Rainer had spent most nights wondering about this between fits of unrestful sleep. What if at the end it was them? Rainer wants to, _needs to_, believe that he would just kill himself. Allow Everly to go back to District 6 and provide a better life for her family. Maybe she would even pick his father up off the side streets and make sure he had enough to eat and a place to sleep. If she made it out of here, Rainer firmly believes that she would do better than he ever would. She would make something out of her life. She would make the time she spent in this arena mean something.

Rainer also believes that he is not a good enough person to sacrifice his life for hers.

A shriek shakes Rainer from his thoughts. He stops dead in his tracks, watching as Everly jumps out from behind the tree and waves frantically at him. After only a moment of confusion, the answer hits him. Literally. Someone slams into his back and tackles Rainer to the ground. The other tribute is huge, his weight knocking the air right out of his lungs. Rainer gasps, landing on his back in the mud and facing his attacker.

Rainer recognizes him immediately as Aten, the District 2 boy. Though they're almost the same age, that is where the similarities end. Aten is easily several inches taller and dozens of pounds heavier- all of it muscle. Still, Rainer doesn't have much of a choice. He reaches out with a stiff punch before Aten has a chance to. The Career boy grimaces and slams his feet down on Rainer's wrists. As much as he struggles, the grip is unbreakable and all thoughts of escape drain from his mind.

Rainer arches his neck back to look at his district partner, still trembling maybe fifty feet away and watching every movement. He screams at her, hoping that in her shock she will still hear him. "Go! I said get out of here!"

She disappears but as Rainer looks back up at Aten, he knows that the Career boy has already spotted her. Probably the direction she is headed in too. As the knife in the Career's hand strikes down towards him, Rainer could have been thinking about how much he wishes she would get away and stay safe. However, the only thought that crosses his mind is how much he wishes it was her instead of him.

* * *

**8 Lost**


	9. 9 Lost

**9 Lost**

* * *

**Everly, 12, District 6 Female**

Everly makes it only a few feet into the murky arena before she collapses against a tree. Her breaths come in quick gasps and she can hardly manage to open her eyes through the tears. _Rainer_… all she can think of is her district partner. She could have stayed and helped him, done… something, but he told her to run and she did. She is scared, and now she is alone. The only person that Everly had even spoke to could be dead right now. She had nothing left.

_Maybe he isn't dead_. The thought is some comfort to Everly, but she isn't stupid. Rainer and the Career boy might have been matched in size but being from District 6 doesn't offer Rainer much of a fighting chance. Everly must prepare herself for the very real possibility that she is going into this alone on day one. She thought that leaving her family back in District 6 was going to be the most painful part of the week but leaving Rainer behind to be killed is definitely up there. Everly buries her head in her hands, trying to wipe her tears away but more just take their place. She isn't sure how much more heartbreak she can be expected to take.

Growing up, the Hunger Games had never been more than a distant fear in the very darkest corners of everyone's mind. Everly hadn't really even considered it until her last birthday, when she actually became eligible to be selected. She didn't have any older siblings to fear for, and no one she knew personally had ever been chosen. Sure she'd recognized a few of the faces that were brought here before her, but she just looked away when they were inevitably killed days later. She remembers many nights sitting on the floor in front of a screen and flipping through her schoolwork as her father sat on the couch with his buddies. They would drink and laugh and place bets on who would be the next to go. It didn't seem like a big deal back then. Now Everly could only wonder if any of them were betting on her right now.

After she was reaped, Everly knew that her chances were slim to none. She is the youngest tribute chosen this year, a scrawny girl still growing into her height with little to call muscle on her bones. It had never even occurred to her just how terrifying the Career tributes truly were. On screen they at least looked like regular teenagers even if they didn't act like it. The first time Everly saw them during training she couldn't help but shiver. There was nothing even remotely normal about the hulking, statuesque tributes. It was easy to pick them out even without having seen their ceremonies, they were the ones comfortable in the strange world they had all just been thrown into. They moved through the mats and weapon racks like they had been here their entire lives. It had taken Everly most of her nights in the Capitol just to feel comfortable sleeping on the strange new bed.

They belonged here. They wanted to be here. Everly, however, wanted nothing more than to leave this place and forget that this entire week had even happened.

Everly is pulled from her thoughts by the sound of a boot being forcibly unstuck from mud. Her breath stops dead in her throat as she lifts her eyes to look around her. The air feels eerily still as she peers at her surroundings. She sees nothing, but she can hear it again. Another step, this one closer. Despite the protest building in her lungs she doesn't dare to even breathe. Tears cloud her vision again and she slowly moves to wipe them against the sleeve of her jacket. If she stays perfectly still, they might pass her by. She can only hope.

It feels like hours before the next step reaches her ears. Everly is unable to stop the whimper that slips through her lips. She can't make out where the sound is coming from. She doesn't know where to go even if she did. Through the trees all Everly can see is more trees. Mud on the ground and leaves blocking the sky for miles. She peers up at the tree she is trembling against and wishes that she had had the clarity of mind to pick a better hiding place. She didn't think this tree would even hold her weight. Not that she had climbed a tree even once in her lifetime.

Slowly, a shadow comes into view to Everly's left side. Another whimper tumbles from her lips and she slaps her hand over her mouth, tears now slipping freely down her cheeks. She can hear the steps coming closer, and they are now much quicker. Everly knows that whoever it is has spotted her, and they are headed right for her. She is shaking so hard that she couldn't even will herself to stand up if she wanted to.

"Aw," a voice suddenly pierces the air just above her head. "Lost, little one?"

Everly slowly arches back her neck to see the same boy who she'd last seen wrestling with Rainer standing directly over her. He lazily rests his arm against the tree she is sitting under, and she notices that the knife clutched in his hand doesn't look quite as silver as it probably had been a few minutes ago. She can't speak, she can only stare up at the Career boy as he smirks down at her.

"Don't worry, I took care of your friend for you," he says, voice reeking with sick delight. "He won't bother you anymore."

Tears remerge from Everly's eyes, though she wasn't sure how she had any left at all. As she looks up at the boy, the only feeling that she can discern is hatred, not fear. He killed Rainer. The one person that she could trust in this place is gone, and she knows beyond any shadow of a doubt that she would be next.

"You're a monster," she manages, her voice barely a whisper as it cuts through the humid air.

His smile dissipates at the same time that the grip on his knife handle tightens. "At least I'm still alive."

His free hand grabs her forehead, slamming the back of Everly's head into the tree trunk so hard that black eats at the edges of her vision. She can do nothing but stare upwards at the Career as he strikes down with his knife, burying the long blade straight through the soft tissue of her neck. Everly gasps, but no air moves from her lungs. Pain explodes in her neck, shooting down into the middle of her chest. Her hands claw up at the knife, but the Career boy slaps her hands down beside her.

"I'll let you keep that one," the tribute says plainly as he begins to walk back towards the Cornucopia, though his voice is little more than an echo in her head. "Make sure you put it to good use."

* * *

**9 Lost**


	10. 10 Lost

**10 Lost**

* * *

**Naida, 17, District 4 Female**

Naida continues to rifle through the supplies for her bow, huffing as she tosses several bags of dried apple over her shoulder. It shouldn't be this hidden, weapons are usually outside of the crates and ready for use as soon as the gong goes off. She thinks back but can't remember anyone running off with anything even resembling a bow. Not that any of them would know how to use it anyway, she smirks to herself.

"There you are!" Daela shouts over and Naida looks up to see Aten emerging from the trees. Naida had not even realized that her ally was missing, although to be honest she had never been close to Aten. He was that annoying kind of entitled District Two Career that thought they were the best thing to come out of Panem since President Snow himself. Naida wrinkles her nose, remembering the comment he had made during training. That District Four weren't 'real Careers', _no offence_.

"I got three," Aten laughs. "Anyone beat me?"

"No way," Vidia says, crossing her arms.

"I take it that's a no," he smirks.

"Two is nothing to laugh at," Vidia chides. "At least I didn't run off and leave the supplies unguarded."

"Eh, you all were here and I saw the little one from Six running that way," he jabs a thumb to point behind him. "Rey, how many'd you get?"

Rey rolls his eyes and holds up one finger, managing to gather another snide chuckle from Aten. Lee also reveals he managed two kills. Aten puts his arm around Lee and ruffles his hair. "Not bad for a Four tribute."

Lee leans away but lets it happen, shrugging towards Naida as she rolls her eyes. She expects that all their time in the arena will be spent trying not to mock Aten's stupid mannerisms. He acts like this whole thing is a game, and while it might be in the name Naida knows that this is something to be serious about. Sure, most years the Victors come from One, Two, or Four but not every year. Not to mention the fact that only one out of the six of them could win regardless. Naida wasn't about to make any enemies by laughing, but she didn't want anything to do with Aten's antics.

All her allies turn to Naida, but it's Lee that finally asks the question that Naida has been dreading answering. "How about you, Naida?"

She swallows hard before responding, trying to cut the embarrassment away from her words. "None. I was trying to find my bow before anyone else got it."

Aten pulls him arm off Lee and stalks towards her. "You're kidding us? Right, Four?"

The way that he spits her district number out as if it were a spoiled piece of meat makes Naida's blood boil. She didn't come here, risk her life and dignity for her district, to be pushed around by some Career with a superiority complex. Naida has trained just as hard, if not harder, than Aten and she knew that for certain. She had had a rough go in the Capitol with stage fright and a splintered bow, but this was the real deal now. Her face reddens as Aten continues his walk towards her.

"You're not kidding," Aten says, the smile falling from his face. He motions at the rest of the alliance, all but Lee standing comfortably as Aten approaches. Naida notices Lee's hand hovering almost too close to the sword handle tucked into his belt. He couldn't possibly be thinking of hurting his own ally? Sure, Naida hates the tribute too but even she understands that they are all stronger together.

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt before, but are you sure you're even a Career?" Aten asks sharply. "You did volunteer, didn't you?"

"I'm just as much a Career as you, Aten," she spits.

"Hardly," he says and turns to the rest of the alliance. "I think we might have made a mistake, but there's an easy way to correct that."

Naida sees Daela grab Lee just as Aten rushes towards her. She holds her hands up in front of her, no weapon even within arms reach to call upon. Aten grabs her by the jaw and swipes her feet out from under her. She lands against a crate with a loud thud, a numb sort of tingling shooting down into her fingertips.

"Aten stop!" She can hear Lee yell, but he is unable to come to her aid. She closes her eyes and tries to call out for him, but before the words can leave her lips they are overwhelmed as pain explodes in her temple. Aten's face comes into view above her, but all she can do is hold her hands up to cup her throbbing head.

"See, Daela what did I tell you? Nothing but a sad excuse for a tribute, let alone a Career."

"Aten, I'm going to kill you!" Naida thinks that the voice belongs to Lee, but she can't see him. When she opens her eyes, the world still looks black to her. Another stripe of pain runs across her forehead and the voices start to seem as though they are drifting away from her.

"Calm down, Four. We've still got a place for you. You're better off without that dead weight to carry around anyway."

"Who are you to decide?" Lee grunts at him. "She wanted to be here, she's one of us!"

Aten stands and takes a few steps towards his ally, leaving Naida stuffed between the crates. "No Career worth their weight would fail every single test they're given. First the chariots, then the interview, and that score? A seven? District scum could do better! I don't know about you, Four, but I'm here to honor my district. Not spit on its reputation."

Lee finally collapses against Daela, who still holds both of his arms. He wants to fight back, to kill them both for what they've clearly been planning against his district partner. She wasn't the strongest of the group, Lee knows this, but she is all he had from home. They reminded each other of the home they were fighting for. Now he had no one. As the Bloodbath cannons begin to erupt throughout the arena, Lee looks around at the other Career pairs, none of them even bothering to look in Naida's direction. Lee has never felt so alone.

* * *

**10 Lost**


	11. 11 Lost

**11 Lost**

* * *

**Terran, 18, District 7 Male**

Fallon shushes Terran from up ahead. The two of them, along with Cade- Fallon's district partner- have been walking for what seems like hours with no real destination in mind. None of them feel comfortable stopping, not to eat or to drink or even to rest. The few hours that the alliance had spent laying in mostly dry dirt the previous night had been the most awake Terran had ever been in his life. They were now one day into the Hunger Games and he hasn't slept for even a minute. Terran suspects that neither Cade nor Fallon has either.

The arena is nothing like Terran had expected. On the district screens it looks so… real, but in person it is almost surreal. All the colours are deeper than they should be, the scraping of branches against his arms feels a little harsher than it should . The only ground not covered with mud seems to be the area immediately surrounding the Cornucopia and the lower points of the terrain are flooded with murky water. Most of the water doesn't seem to actually be that deep from what Terran has tread through, but he isn't eager to keep trying his luck with that. He has already seen some evidence of what is lurking around the water's edges, but his real fears lie with what the water might be concealing from them.

Fallon gasps ahead of him. Terran and Cade both freeze in place, eyes searching their surroundings for what could have alarmed their ally. Cade is closest to her and whispers in her direction, curiosity the only thing forcing the words forwards. "What is it?"

Fallon lifts up a shaking finger to point to her left. Terran turns, his breath frozen in his throat. His eyes don't immediately see anything amiss. Trees with weeping branches and twisted trunks. Water suspended in thick mud a few yards away from the bottom of his boots. His cheeks pale when he finally sees the creature, only its eyes and the tip of its nose visible on the water's surface. Judging only by the size of the eyes staring across the water at him, Terran guesses that the creature is probably a whole lot bigger than he is.

Fallon is the first to move, taking a step backwards followed by another. Cade and Terran don't hesitate to follow suit, not wanting to go even a foot's length closer to the creature. Terran had so far only seen a variety of birds and a couple of snakes no longer than his arm. He was correct to be fearful of the things he has yet to encounter. They could be anywhere and are more than likely everywhere. He wouldn't have even seen the creature watching them if Fallon hadn't called it out to them. He shivers considering what else might be out there watching them.

For a moment, Jada crosses Terran's mind. He never had the chance to get close with his district partner, in fact she had wanted nothing to do with him. In the Capitol, Terran had tried to talk to her several times especially on the night before the arena. Insane to think that it was only two days ago that he waited for Jada in the kitchen of their little apartment. He never was much of a sentimental type, but something about the approach of probable death had made Terran desperate for some kind of human connection however brief it might be. As soon as she saw him seated at the table she had basically sprinted back to her room. Terran had called out to her but it was clear that she didn't want any company. He wonders if she is still alone like she had planned to be. He wonders if she worries about him too.

"I don't think it's following us," Fallon finally says, letting out a slow breath she must have been holding.

"What _was _that?" Cade says after a quick glance around. "I've never seen eyes that big on any animal in Five."

"Beats me," Terran says. "I hope we never see that thing again."

"Agreed," both of his allies say together. In the short time that the three of them have known each other, Terran feels closer to them than to his own family. It's not that he was never close to his family, but he always had a better offer than to spend much time with them. Terran was never quite the homebody that his brother and parents are. He always dreamed of seeing the rest of Panem, the other districts and the wilderness that ran for miles beyond the fences of District Seven. Now he longs for his home more than anything in the entire world. If he could only return, Terran doesn't think he would ever want to leave again. He would be content to stay in those fences forever if he could.

His skin crawls as he realizes how long they have been paused in this clearing. His boots have sunk a solid inch into the mud and Terran can feel the tension beginning to drift into the air between them. He points to an empty space between two trees and shrugs, that way as good a direction as any to start heading. Neither Cade nor Fallon disagrees. Moving always feels better than being still, even when there isn't really anywhere to be moving to.

They start walking again, but Terran's mind is somewhere else entirely. He thinks about his family, wonders whether they've left their home to watch him on the district screens. He isn't sure why it matters but thinking about them is all he's been able to really focus on since his reaping. The only thing that manages to pull him out of his thoughts is another gasp from Fallon behind him.

"What?" Terran asks, his voice much louder than he intends it to be. Almost as soon as the word slips from his tongue Terran knows exactly what has startled his ally. Hardly a dozen feet away are the first tributes they have seen in over a day. Not just any tributes either, the Career alliance.

"Run," Cade whispers and Terran nor Fallon need anymore convincing. The three of them take off in the opposite direction they had been heading, not caring whether it takes them back to that big-eyed monster. The real danger was just back there and, by the sounds of it, it's following them. Within seconds Terran's lungs start to burn and his feet are landing each muddy step by sheer luck alone. He is not confident that he is faster than a Career, not by a long shot. He needs a plan.

His allies take a sharp left up ahead and in a split-second decision, Terran doesn't follow them. As selfish as it might be, he hopes that the Careers will go for the larger number of bodies. His theory is almost instantly disproved as he sees a flash of movement to his right. There is no way they could have caught up to him this quickly. Right?

A knife slices the air just inches from his nose. Terran stops dead in his tracks, realizing his mistake just seconds later as a second knife lodges itself deep into his shoulder. He calls out, hoping beyond any hope at all that someone will come running to his aid. He knows though that his cries will go more than likely go unanswered. He can't expect someone to risk their neck for his. Not when he wouldn't even think of doing the same.

* * *

**11 Lost**


	12. 12 Lost

**12 Lost**

* * *

**Brin, 13, District 10 Female**

_Brin dreams of her home. She is back in District 10, in a room that feels a little bigger than it should be. Her parents sit at the dining table watching the changing screen above their heads. Brin walks up to them, but they don't turn to see her. Their brown eyes are fixed on the screen. They don't, or can't, look away. Brin turns to see her younger brothers come down the stairs, pushing each other out of the way in their clamor to the cabinets. Myles wins the fight, pulling the last bread end off the middle shelf. Miyo makes a face at his brother's turned back. Brin laughs, but only silence falls from her lips. _

I'm so happy to be home, _Brin sighs_. I missed you all so much.

_Her family doesn't turn around, their eyes still fixed to the screen. Brin doesn't care. She is home. Anywhere else is nothing but a nightmare biting at the edges of her memory. Brin walks up behind her parents, trying to get their attention. She's home! They should be celebrating, hugging her, telling her how much they've missed her since she's been gone. Brin can't really remember where she was gone to, but she knows that she has been gone for a long time. She's glad to be home. _

_Brin puts her hand on her mother's shoulder, but she doesn't turn around. Her eyes stay glued to that screen. Her brothers' faces are too now turned towards it. _Strange_, Brin thinks to herself_, what could be happening that could be more important?

_As she steps around her family, the voice coming through the screen becomes almost deafening. _Such a shame! A_ man's thick accent echoes through the room. _Another young one was taken down last night in one of the more gruesome scenes to date in the 38th Hunger Games. District 10's Brin Heally happened upon the District 2 tributes and let me tell you it did not end well for the girl! Stay tuned for the replays after the break.

Brin gasps, sitting bolt upright as her breaths come in heaving puffs. She looks quickly around her, but the night is so dark that she can see almost nothing except for a faint glowing in a nearby bush. Brin had already investigated the strange glowing shrubs and found these tiny flying bugs that were to blame. As eerie and fear-inducing as the arena has proven to be, Brin has been able to find certain parts of it somewhat magical. First, the little glow bugs and then yesterday a bright yellow bird with a beautiful singsong chatter. However simple it may seem, thinking of the sweet bird made it easier for Brin to bring herself out of the nightmare.

Suddenly, the nightmare doesn't seem so far off. Brin's ears pick up the sound of bristling branches coming from in front of her. As hard as she squints, she can see nothing to indicate that there is anything there. However, she can't shake the chills that run down her spine. She swallows thickly, trying to tell herself that it's just the wind or something. The sound comes again, and this time she can't ignore it. Whether it's an animal, a tribute, or just her imagination, Brin isn't prepared to just wait it out.

"Marleigh," Brin whimpers, gently shaking her ally's arm. She had gotten close to the District 8 girl almost instantly after they met during training. Brin had been sitting through a rather dull lecture on edible plants, none of which she had managed to commit to memory, when Marleigh had slumped down at the table opposite her. Apparently, she had made a run at the obstacle course with a pretty terrible outcome. After the two girls got to talking, Marleigh burst out in laughter, reconciling that the Careers would pay her no mind after that performance. It had been the first time Brin had laughed since the Reaping.

Marleigh groans loudly before rolling back over and Brin stiffens at the sound. She tries again to shake her ally awake, a bit more aggressively but trying to keep quiet at the same time. The sounds are getting closer and Brin's courage is fading quickly. Both girls have found sleep difficult to come by, but Marleigh more so than Brin. Marleigh hadn't had more than a couple hours of rest each night since they entered the arena. When they finally decided to stop for the night, she was exhausted.

"Marleigh, wake up," Brin whispers again but her friend doesn't even stir this time. Tears well up in Brin's eyes, the sound seeming to get closer. If that sound hadn't been heading for them earlier, Brin was certain that it was now. She could have been silent and waited for it to possibly pass by them completely. Now she had a choice to make.

Brin climbs quickly to her feet. She starts to tiptoe away from the small clearing, the mud doing some to soften her steps. Brin looks back one last time but can't see her sleeping ally through the darkness. It was the last thing Brin wanted to do, but maybe Marleigh would be safer staying here- if she stays silent. Brin can't bear to consider that she might be leaving her friend to be killed. She shakes her head. She doesn't even know if there is really something there. It could just be her anxiety and imagination teaming up to torture her.

The sound of a heavy shoe unsticking from the mud brings a soft whimper to Brin's lips. She is certain now that she is not imagining this. Her shoulder scrapes against a rigid branch as she quickens her pace. She feels around for the tree's trunk, hoping that it will be thick enough to support her. Possibly the only advantage that her size offers in this place is that the trees aren't terribly large. Not many of the other tributes would be able to stay up in the branches, but Brin thinks she won't have too much of an issue. The textured surface feels rough under her palms, but she starts up the trunk regardless. If she can only get high enough, they won't even see her if they pass in the darkness.

She pauses when she hears voices. They sound even closer than the footsteps, and she doesn't have a single doubt in her mind that she knows to whom they belong. The only tributes Brin thinks would be foolish enough to run around in the dark are the Career alliance. Neither of them have seen head or foot of them since the first day, but it was really only a matter of time. They were usually the only ones to actively seek out other tributes. Brin hopes that she nor Marleigh will be next.

"I swear I saw someone over here," a male voice huffs. They can't be more than ten feet away, but Brin can see nothing through the thick cloud of night. She clings to the branch of the tree; unsure how high she has managed to climb in the short time but hoping it will be high enough. Her fingertips shake against the rough surface and Brin closes her eyes. She hears the change of pace and deep down she knows that they have seen someone. As their steps quicken towards her she knows that she is running out of time.

"Look! Up!"

Something slices through the air nearby and Brin flinches, preparing for the pain that is surely to follow. She feels nothing, but she can see movement below her. When she looks down she sees them easily, five bodies encircled by dozens of glow bugs. _Of course_, she thinks when she sees the little glowing dots, _the Capitol will want to watch_.

Brin's entire body shakes, but she refuses to be helpless and wait for death to reach her. She finds the next branch and heaves herself up onto it. She climbs as high as she can, hoping that the branches are as strong as they feel. Below her, she can hear the tributes arguing but she doesn't stop. She cries out when something sharp sticks in the trunk beside her head and she clings to the branch. Reaching up, she tries to dislodge the knife from the bark. It's not much but she needs something to defend herself. She refuses to be weak, even as tears wash down her dirtied cheeks.

* * *

**12 Lost**


	13. 13 Lost

**13 Lost**

* * *

**Marleigh, 15, District 8 Female**

It's the sound of cannon fire that finally rouses Marleigh out of her deep sleep. She reaches over for Brin, but her fingertips only slide into the softened ground beside her. Marleigh sits up to look around for her ally but darkness clouds the view of her surroundings. She squints but she cannot make out any shapes in the clearing. Never has Marleigh seen such a complete and total darkness until she entered the arena. Even on the cloudiest nights in District 8, when the mood was shrouded from view, there were the flickering lanterns outside her window to beat away the night's creatures. Here there was nothing and so Marleigh's imagination ran wild wondering what could be waiting in the shadows.

Marleigh squints as the sky suddenly brightens above her. This happens with every cannon fire as the Gamemakers show the newly dead tribute. Marleigh shudders at the thought that her image might someday light up the sky as well. She doesn't like to think about the possibility of what might happen. Her mentor told her that she needs to be prepared and think about strategies to take on the arena's challenges. She just went along with the endless hours of planning, none of that was really up Marleigh's alley. She doesn't plan any moment of her life and she prefers it that way.

Panem's anthem blares through the arena. Any tributes who may have slept through the cannon fire were probably wide awake now. Marleigh cranes her neck up to the sky, wondering who it will be this time. She has already lost her district partner. Alek died during the Bloodbath and even though they'd hardly been close Marleigh wept for him the entire night. Now Brin is all she has left.

Quickly, she remembers her ally. Marleigh looks around and now with the sky lit up she can see right to the edges of the small clearing. Her stomach lurches up into her throat as the realization dawns on her that Brin wasn't just lying out of her reach. Her friend is gone.

The thought has barely manifested in her mind before the image in the sky confirms it. Along with the crest of District 10 are Brin's dark waves and angled eyes. Her shy smile beams down at Marleigh. She jumps to her feet and looks around her as the song of Panem's anthem starts to soften. Now that the noise has lifted, a new sound begins to come through. Marleigh recognizes it as laughter.

"Brin?" Marleigh calls out in the direction of the sound. It doesn't take more than a moment for her to mentally slap herself. Brin is gone. She can't possibly hear Marleigh now, but whatever killed her might. Marleigh listens harder, trying to discern where the noise is coming from and, more importantly, if it's coming closer.

The laughter seems to have stopped, because Marleigh can't hear it at all anymore. She wonders if it was even there at all, or if it was another trick of her imagination as the sky plunges her into darkness once again. She knows that she must move in case someone has heard her. She swears at herself for being so stupid. As she wipes her muddied hands against her pants, her mind can't help but return to Brin. What happened to her? Where did she go? However, the question that weighs on her the most is who, or _what_, found her ally. If they're still around, it won't be safe here for Marleigh much longer. If they've heard her, she has even less time to leave.

A slight movement ahead makes her blood feel as though it has frozen inside of her veins. Her hands reach out around her, hoping to find something to hide behind. If she can see them, it's only a matter of time before they spot her. Whoever _they _are. Marleigh's hands find a tree trunk and she clings to it like a lifeline. She tries to squint, willing the figures into focus. As she stares, dozens of tiny glowing lights start to gather near the figures. It makes it easier to see them, but Marleigh shrinks down further against the bark. She wishes that she would have went a different way.

Ahead of her is the Career alliance. Even though Marleigh can't make out any of their faces she is sure of this. She can't hear their words but their voices echo around her. No other tributes would be so fearless. Brin and Marleigh had hardly spoken in their three days in the arena, and when they did it was in muffled whispers. They were afraid to be found. The Careers crave the confrontation.

Up until this moment, Marleigh had told herself that she was okay with dying. She is certainly not a fighter and she doesn't think she could bring herself to end a life. She wants to survive as long as she can, but she knows in the end she would not be leaving. Marleigh had looked at her reflection each night in the Capitol and told herself this. There was not a hope in the world that she would live until the end. She thought that when the time came she would accept her own death. There was no other choice.

Here, though, the other choice is clear. Marleigh can't accept dying. She won't. As she stares at the Careers, the closest of them no more than thirty feet away, she is overcome with the desire to live. Against all odds she wants to go home and grow old with her mother. She wants to live under a hundred different roofs and never settle for poverty again. She wants to win. She needs to.

Tears spill down her cheeks before she even realizes they are coming. It will only be minutes, maybe seconds, until they realize that she is there. She has to hide or get away, but her feet won't cooperate. As much as she wants to go home, fear of these older tributes overwhelms even the most passionate thought of escape. No part of her body responds to her desperate cries to move. Frozen in fear she can do nothing but stare.

"Look," a male voice says and Marleigh lets out a whimper that is quickly lost to the breeze. "Over there."

As soon as one of the figures steps towards her, every fiber of her body jumps into action. She pushes off the tree bark and sprints in the opposite direction, her brain screaming for her to get away, get anywhere but here. Marleigh can hear loud footsteps behind her but it doesn't matter. She runs as fast as her body can manage to carry her.

It could have been several minutes or only seconds that she ran for, but Marleigh notices the trees beginning to thin. She doesn't chance a look backwards. Not when there are so many patches to slip on and roots to trip on. One misstep could be the end for Marleigh. She catches a reflection of water and she stops almost mid step, her arms flailing out to prevent her from falling. The ground in front of her is flooded with water. She doesn't know how deep but she doesn't want to continue to find out either. Brin and she had avoided the water as much as they could besides to drink. They both knew that there would be something there laying in wait for a tribute to venture in. She shivers now at the thought.

Turning around, Marleigh comes face-to-face with the Careers. More glow bugs have gathered around them, many hovering behind her over the murky water. It was just light enough to recognize their faces. The one at the front was the District Two girl, Marleigh can't remember her name. She is the one that speaks first.

"Care for a swim?" Her voice is mocking and Marleigh trembles, not daring a look behind her. She knows that her heels are only a few inches at most from the edge of the water.

"I'm sure the mutts would love company." Another voice comes from the boy just behind her. Marleigh remembers his name- Aten- he was all the Capitol could talk about last week. The favourite to win it all from what her mentor had said. The perfect tribute. Just looking at the massive boy, Marleigh could see why.

They must notice Marleigh's quick back at the water. "You haven't seen them? Terrible creatures, really. Hungry, too."

She knows that she is trapped. Does she take a chance at the water in which she could drown or be met by one of the Capitol's creations? Does she stay here to be another Career casualty? There is no clear choice. Tears drip from her nose and she falls to her knees, letting them sink into the mud. The Careers laugh and she bows her head. She can't bear to watch.

* * *

**13 Lost**


	14. 14 Lost

**14 Lost**

**Rey, 18, District 1 Male**

* * *

It was Aten's idea to split up.

Rey and Daela wade through the arena in silence, neither of them quite sure what to say to the other. Though they were allies, Daela was certainly not his friend and Rey would have much rather been paired with his district partner. When Aten makes a choice, however, Rey was not about to be the one to argue. Not after what happened with Naida.

Tensions have been high in the alliance since the first day. He knew that Aten didn't like Naida, but a Career hasn't died in the bloodbath since long before Rey started training, and never at the hands of another Career. Aten had wanted to make a point; Rey was sure of this. Naida's name would now be known by every Panem citizen. The Career that couldn't last a day in the arena. Rey didn't have much respect for the District Four girl either, but he would never do something so cruel. Not when she had a family that would now need to live with the shame and without her.

Vidia and Aten were both to stay with Lee for the day as they hunted today. Rey knows that this arrangement is because Aten still doesn't trust Lee, and maybe doesn't trust Rey or Vidia either. Lee's reaction to seeing Aten kill his district partner was understandable, but his disagreement was clear. Even only knowing the tribute for a few days, Rey knows that Aten is not one to let disrespect slide. Lee hasn't said a word about it since, but it's clear to see that his trust is gone. Rey wouldn't be surprised if this wasn't the end of the clash. He just hopes that he and Vidia won't get caught in the crossfire when it finally comes to a head.

Rey's childhood had been spent in the District 1 Training Academy, sparring against other little children with mock weapons and sitting through demonstrations and lectures from the instructors. It was the normal life of an upper-middle class citizen. The classes started around age five and they were always full. By the time Rey was fourteen his class of nearly fifty kids had dwindled down to barely fifteen. Some of them chose to leave, some of their parents decided to pull their kids after a while to focus on school. Still others were asked to leave when it was clear they weren't cut out for it or weren't taking it seriously. The Academy was free from anyone who wanted to train, but it had a very clear purpose. If you weren't ready to become a Victor, you did not belong there.

Rey and Vidia had been classmates since the beginning, both of their parents enrolling them when they met the age requirements. There was always a bit of a friendly rivalry between the two of them, and Rey spent a good deal of his young years trying to hide his crush on her. Through all the class cuts and long days in training, Vidia was one of the constants in Rey's life. He shrugged off any hope of being with her after they both turned seventeen. That's when they choose the next year's tributes as well as a backup pair. Vidia and Rey were the obvious choices. They'd always been the favourites.

"Do you know where we're going?" Rey turns to find Daela several paces behind him, both hands on her hips and looking at him with the usual annoyed expression. Though Aten is the Capitol favourite, Rey is certainly more fearful of his district partner. At least Aten smiles from time to time.

"Not at all," Rey shrugs. "If you'd prefer to lead be my guest."

Daela doesn't answer but shoves past Rey, heading in the same directions as he'd been previously. Rey doesn't say a word. Of all the weapons he's learned how to yield and all the strategies he's gone over, his biggest strength in the arena so far has been simply knowing when to keep his mouth shut. Let District 2 believe that they are running the show for as long as possible. He doubts either of them are stupid enough to believe that they'll all follow them blindly forever, but they don't need to know how soon forever will end.

Part of being a Career tribute is leaving your morals behind in your home district. He might like Lee and even feel somewhat close to the District 2 pair, but only one of them can win. He and Vidia agreed that they would stay together to the end. Then after that it'll be a spar to the end. May the best tribute win, and Rey hopes it will be him. At least then if it's not him, it'll be Vidia. If it's not him, District 1 would still have a tribute return home. That must be the priority.

"Stop," Daela's voice is hardly more than a breath but it halts Rey dead in his tracks. He almost doesn't recognize the words as hers. He's never heard even a drop of fear tainting her sharp tongue. The fact that he hears it now scares him more than almost anything else ever could.

"What?" Rey asks, but his voice is so soft that he can hardly hear it himself. Daela takes a step backward and he matches it, but he can't see or hear anything. He has already opened his mouth to ask again when he hears it. His jaw immediately snaps closed. The sound is like nothing he can remember hearing before. It sounds like something is almost… sliding across the ground. Something _enormous_.

Then they see it. Two pairs of eyes widen in horror as the massive shape becomes visible through the trees. The green-brown scales glisten as they catch the light and both tributes realize what the creature is. Their lips form the word that comes out like a sharp breath. "Snake."

Daela is the first to move, pushing past Rey and taking off in the opposite direction. Rey scrambles to keep up, his feet slipping in the mud with each step but the sound of its slithering body keeps him running. Even with just a fast glance, Rey knows that he has never seen a snake quite like this one. Its head is easily larger than his torso and its body looks like it goes on forever. The feature that clings to the edge of his mind is the teeth, each one the length of his index finger and ending to a sharp point. It's the memory of these that pushes both tributes even faster forwards.

Ahead of him, Daela makes a sharp turn to the right through a pair of damp tree trunks. As Rey starts to follow his foot catches on a twisted root and sends him tumbling forwards. He is on his feet in seconds, though his ankle protests. He calls out to Daela as he starts towards where he last saw her, but only the gliding sound answers him. Rey tries to look around, the sound feels like it is coming from everywhere at once which can't be correct. He calls out again, panic working its way into his voice. "Daela!"

The scaly form comes into his view so quickly that Rey doesn't have time to even react before he feels the warm body wrap itself around him. In seconds the snake has wrapped him from neck to toe, leaving only his head exposed. Rey screams again, no distinct words able to form on his lips. As its body presses on him from every angle, blackness bites at the edges of his vision and if the snake hadn't been holding him upright, he would have easily fallen over. His head lulls back against the warm scales and the final image to sear into his memory is the snake's open mouth smile as it sinks down towards him.

* * *

**14 Lost**


	15. 15 Lost

**15 Lost**

* * *

**Shaw, 18, District 11 Male**

Shaw still wasn't sure what to think of the news that there were only ten of them left. It meant that they had survived for longer than Shaw had expected, but it also meant that over half of the tributes he'd only just met were now dead.

Aerin had cried on the night that Brin and Marleigh were killed. She only knew one of their names, the other Emersyn filled in for her, but she remembered talking to them in line during training. She was taking every day harder than either Shaw or Emersyn. Aerin is only two years younger than him but her innocence is still fully intact. Shaw probably wouldn't have thought much about the two dead girls if it wasn't for Aerin. He wasn't sure whether to welcome the humanity or push it aside. Shaw didn't want to lose the empathy but he didn't want to be swallowed by it like his district partner.

As far as their alliance goes, the three of them have been surviving. Shaw and Emersyn had been able to secure a short knife and two backpacks from the Cornucopia, though the bags of dried fruit and brown sludge bars ran out two days ago. That night, Shaw had managed to use the knife to kill a furry brown animal he didn't recognize. Emersyn worried that they might get sick without cooking it, so Aerin and her made a small fire to roast the pieces of it that Shaw sawed off the bones. They narrowly missed a run in with some other tributes once Emersyn realized the rising smoke from the fire could bring visitors.

Today, the meat is cold and hard but it does the trick to calm the hunger in his belly. He knows that they will need to hunt again, and Shaw also knows that he will likely be the one to do it. He would never ask Aerin to kill something, in fact she flat out refuses to even carry the weapon. Emersyn could probably do it, but there is no need. He may as well add to the blood stains on his pant leg.

"Where are we going?" Aerin calls from behind him. When Shaw turns around, he flashes her an apologetic smile. He didn't realize how far behind she was. There was really no rush to get anywhere fast, but Shaw felt the need to step purposefully anyways. It made him feel like he was doing something besides just waiting around to be caught.

"We need water," Emersyn reminds her. Aerin and Shaw hadn't met the girl before they ran into her in the arena, but they both felt bad leaving her alone. She wasn't that much younger than them at fourteen, but she looked too small and frail to last by herself. Shaw's initial impression of the girl couldn't have been more wrong.

Emersyn is smart, not just in knowing about gadgets and stuff that he would expect from District 3, but in the way she sees things before he or Aerin does. She was the one to point out that the smoke could attract other tributes. She also came up with a way to hide their backpacks in the trees when they were out looking for food by using a net and vine system. Now, Shaw isn't sure if he rescued her or if it was the other way around.

Shaw looks over at Aerin who has now caught up to the group. Having her here with him has been one of the hardest parts of this entire thing. They were never friends back at home, but she was over at his house all the time hanging out with his little sister, Midori. Every time he looks at her he remembers his sister, his family, his home, and his stomach starts to turn with the homesickness. Shaw finds himself torn between wanting to protect his little sister's friend and wanting to protect himself. For now, he thinks he might be able to do both but later? He isn't so sure if staying with her is just setting the scene for more heartbreak.

He is happy with his alliance; they find ways to laugh even when Shaw is so scared or homesick he could cry. He also regrets ever taking in either of them. Shaw could have watched where Aerin went and gone the other direction during the Bloodbath. He isn't sure that this would have made him happier, but it would have been easier he thinks. Now that he's gotten closer to both it's too late to run.

"Shaw!" Emerysn's warning comes only half a second before pain shoots up his back. His breath comes out so forcefully he thinks he might be sick, and his lungs refuse to take in more air as the pain sharpens.

He can hear footsteps slapping the ground behind him and, even through the blurry tears eating at his vision, he can see Aerin's back as she sprints to the treeline. Emersyn grabs his arm, using all her strength to try to pull him to his feet. Once up, it's only a second before he is falls back to his knees. Shaw wants to tell her to go find Aerin, but it hurts so much to even breath that he can't imagine speaking.

Emersyn pulls at him for another second, glancing around behind her frantically. When she turns back to him, Shaw can see his own terror reflected in her eyes. She grabs his shoulder once more, but he knows that she won't be able to get him back up. All he wants to do is lay down and maybe that will make the pain stop.

Shaw can see the panic building in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

She drops Shaw's arm and runs to catch up with Aerin. He falls onto his hands, trying to keep upright, but soon enough he rolls onto his side. His eyes gaze up at the clear sky, tree branches cutting it into a hundred pieces. Shaw can hear footsteps come up behind him. He forces himself up onto his elbows, pain protesting every movement. A girl is running towards him, not Aerin or Emerysn but he recognizes her as being from District 7.

"Help," he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain bites again into his back. She doesn't say a word as she stops in front of him. She pushes his head down so that he can no longer see her face, and then there is agony as her weapon pieces the top of his neck. Shaw loses all strength in his arms and collapses back into the mud.

* * *

**15 Lost**


	16. 16 Lost

**16 Lost**

* * *

**Vidia, 18, District 1 Female**

Vidia hangs back from the rest of the Career pack as they make their way around the arena. That morning, Aten suggested splitting up again and Vidia immediately rejected the idea. She knows that he isn't happy to have one of his loyal followers refusing to follow orders, but she can hardly put enough energy into caring. Vidia will not fall trap to whatever plan Aten and Daela might be enacting with these separations.

First Naida, then Rey. Vidia has never been known as the sharpest knife on the rack, but even she can read this pattern from miles away. It can't be a coincidence that on the one-day Aten decides they should split up Rey ends up dead before dusk. Daela told them it was a snake, some sort of Capitol muttation, that killed him but Vidia is certain it was a rat. A rat from District 2 with blonde hair and green eyes. The Capitol almost never sends their creations after the Career pack, they're the only ones keeping things interesting. In the off chance they had managed to bring the Capitol's wrath down on them, Rey was too careful. He would never be caught by a mutt and certainly not one as big as Daela described.

Vidia isn't sure how much longer she should remain with the Career pack. There are only nine of them left as of yesterday, after the mysterious death of the District 11 boy. All of them had been together at the time. It couldn't possibly had been any of them that killed him. Vidia wonders if there are other tributes out there willing to play the game. That would certainly spice up the scene for the Capitol. It's possible that it was an alliance betrayal or a muttation attack, but those happen most at night. His death doesn't sit well with Vidia, and even Aten was wary of the announcement yesterday.

"I think we should be heading this way," Aten says, pointing across a shallow-looking pond. "We haven't been on the other side yet, unless you went there with Rey, Daela?"

Daela shakes her head. The tribute has always been pretty quiet, but these past couple days she has hardly said a word. Aten shrugs and continues on, urging Lee and Vidia to follow him. Lee begins to follow but Vidia notices Daela holding at the back of the group. This doesn't feel right. Vidia smells a rat, but this time there might be two of them.

"I don't think so," Vidia says, crossing her arms over her chest. Lee and Aten pause and look back at her. Vidia can see the surprise on Aten's face turn to annoyance, but she isn't going to back down from this one. After Rey and Naida, there is no reason to have faith that the District 2 tributes are going to lead her in the right direction.

"Excuse me?" Aten says finally, pushing past Lee to have a clear view of Vidia. She flips her ponytail over her shoulder, eyes unwavering from his gaze.

"You heard me, I don't think we should go that way," Vidia says, both eyes trained on Aten but keeping Daela in her peripheral vision. Behind Aten, Lee looks absolutely petrified though he tries to keep his expression blank.

"Do you have a reason for that?" He asks, his voice holding steady but annoyance flashing in both eyes. The fact that this is bothering Aten only reinforces Vidia's idea that this is a setup. She knows that she should tread softly, but days of pent up anger start to resurface. Vidia refuses to go the way of her district partner. Rey would want more for her.

"How do I know this isn't a trap," Vidia says simply, her gaze shifting from Aten to Daela whose lips have tightened into a thin line. "You know, like Rey's run in with the muttation."

Daela steps forward to answer but Aten stops her with a sharp wave of his hand. "You must be tired. Obviously, you aren't thinking clearly today."

"I've slept just fine," Vidia spits. The fact that Aten is trying to play off her realization makes her even angrier. How could she have trusted them for so long? She should have left with Rey after he killed Naida. This alliance is nothing like it should be. Aten is a manipulator and a monster, even by Vidia's measures. "You heard what I said. How do I know this isn't a trap?"

"I wouldn't kill him," Daela says, her fists clenched together at her sides. "I'm better than that."

Aten eyes her but chooses to say nothing in response. Vidia could almost believe the girl, except that anger and grief have clouded any reasoning she might be able to see. Daela opens her mouth to speak again, but then she looks away, her eyes blinking at the ground below them.

Vidia tries to calm her breathing, but all the sadness and anger and disgust that she had managed to suppress after Rey's death come crashing down on her at once. He should never have died. Rey should be here with her, waiting for the end so they can honour District 1 in the way they have both dreamed about since they were toddlers. He shouldn't be dead and heading home in a box to his family's doorstep. Not by anyone's hand but hers and not until it was the only choice left.

"Why should I trust you," she yells, her voice much louder than she intended but Vidia doesn't care. Daela steps away from her and she can see Lee pressing himself into the shade of a nearby tree, his face revealing his fear. The last time the Career pack fought, his ally paid the price. He isn't eager to be next.

"We're allies," Aten says, his tone matching hers. Vidia shoves him backwards and he trips on a twisted root ending up in the mud. When his eyes turn back to face her, she is surprised they are not red from the anger seething from his body. He is on his feet again in seconds, but Daela pushes him away from Vidia. Vidia steps back, but she is eager for him to fight her. She yearns for him to start something so that she can finally have a reason to end his tyranny. Vidia should have been the leader, or Rey. Not Aten. Never him.

"I'm going to kill you," Aten shouts, pushing Daela to the ground before she can catch her footing. She looks past him towards Vidia and yells at her to run, but she stays put. Vidia is anything but a coward and she will not let Aten paint her as one. She pulls a spear out of the side of her backpack, pointing it towards her ally.

Aten takes out his machete without even looking and quickly closes the couple meters between them. He fakes a lunge to her left, but Vidia sees his strategy and their weapons clash to her right. He snarls and she laughs, all fear drowned out by her anger. She will kill him, then she will kill Daela. Two eyes for an eye, because Rey is double the person either of them could ever be. Vidia's spear catches his hand but Aten doesn't even flinch as blood runs down his hand.

Vidia meets his next stab with the weapon, but his other fist connects to the side of her jaw. She stumbles backwards a couple of steps, wiping her lip on the back of her hand and seeing red. This time, its Vidia that closes the distance between them and both of her lunges connect with the blade of Aten's machete. She isn't sure how long they go on, both trapped in the dangerous dance but neither willing to stop it. It isn't until she hears Daela gasp and sees the smile come across Aten's face that Vidia finally feels the pain spread across her abdomen. She looks down and sees a second knife hilt deep in her stomach. Vidia hadn't even known he had it.

Aten pushes her off his knife and turns to Daela. "Then there was three. Too bad, Vidia, I thought you were better than this."

Vidia slips to her knees, her feet going numb underneath her. They notice that Lee is gone before Vidia does, and Aten shouts his name into the treetops. She hopes that he will be able to beat them, but it seems like a lost war already. The people who say that good will always triumph were lying. Evil always wins in the arena.

* * *

**16 Lost**


	17. 17 Lost

**17 Lost**

* * *

**Fallon, 16, District 5 Female**

The sun is already beginning to rise before Cade finally agrees to stop for the night. Fallon has been exhausted for about as long as they've been walking, but that has become standard lately. She can't remember the last time she had a good night sleep. Even in the days before the Reaping, she was up worrying about her siblings. Back then, Fallon never thought to worry about herself. It was always her two younger brothers that slept in her bed the week before the Reaping, crying at the thought of leaving home if their names were unlucky enough to be called.

Part of her was glad it was her if someone from Fallon's family had to be selected. The other part wishes that it could have been anyone else. She was used to being strong for her siblings, standing up to their bullies and visiting their teachers when they were in trouble and her parents were too exhausted to care. Now the only person she had to protect was herself, and Fallon has never felt smaller or more helpless.

"How about here?" Fallon calls ahead to Cade. He turns around to answer, the dark circles made more prominent in the murky daylight. Out of the two of them, Fallon isn't sure who is handling the arena worse. After Terran was killed by the Career pack, Cade made them walk until Fallon almost fell over with exhaustion. He said that if they stopped moving the Careers might come back for them. Fallon had heard him crying from ahead of her. She didn't have the heart to force a break. It seemed like walking was the only thing keeping Cade even somewhat whole.

"I don't know," Cade says, scanning the area. "I think we should keep going. Just a little bit ahead, I think the trees might be thicker."

Fallon closes the distance between them and places a hand softly on his shoulder. Cade looked at her, probably seeing the same helplessness that reflected in his eyes. Fallon let out a deep breath before speaking. "Cade, we can't just keep doing this. We're both exhausted."

"If we stop here, they might find us," Cade argues weakly. Fallon knows that he is terrified of being found, it's the reason he insists on moving around so much. "It's not safe."

"No where is safe," Fallon whispers.

"We could find somewhere," Cade shakes his head, scanning the area. It's the same muddy arena that it has always been. The trees aren't any thicker in one place. The roots aren't any flatter across the pond or towards the Cornucopia. Fallon knows that Cade is trying to keep them safe, but that word no longer has meaning in this place. Something could be waiting for them around any corner.

"No where is safe," Fallon repeats, trying to keep her voice low but wanting to make him understand. There is no way of knowing when the next one of them will die. "If we rest, maybe we can at least be prepared to fight if we see them again."

Cade shakes his head. "There's no fighting them. If they find us, they'll kill us. Just like Terran."

"What else are we supposed to do?" Fallon asks, her voice creaking as she fights to keep her words quiet. There is no use in attracting one of the other tributes, or worse. Neither of them are in good enough shape to fight anything.

"Hide," Cade insists. "And keep moving so we can stay ahead of them."

"We don't even know where they are, Cade," Fallon reminds him.

Cade puts his hand on her shoulder, and she can see every emotion in his eyes that she feels mixing in her mind. The fear, the anxiety, the exhaustion, the anger, and the grief. They've both been through more in these last few days than either of them has been through in their entire lives. Finally, he speaks. "We'll stop soon, but not here."

"Soon," Fallon repeats with a nod. They keep walking as Fallon's steps fade into each other, her boots slipping through the mud with difficulty but even this is easier than lifting her feet.

"Cade," she whispers. She can't keep going, they need to stop and rest. Fallon feels like she is going to collapse. If Cade hears her, she never finds out because less than a second after the word leaves her lips an enormous force pushes her into a nearby tree.

Fallon screams as pain erupts in her side. Cade turns around, his eyes wide open as he stares at her. Fallon looks down. A long metal spear is buried so deep in her flesh that she thinks it might be coming out the other side, but she is far too terrified to check. Cade drops to the ground beside her, both arms trying to pull her to her feet. No sooner is she upright than she is back down on the ground, her legs unable to hold her.

Fallon's breaths come in quick gasps. She can hear footsteps heading towards them, and she knows that Cade doesn't have much time. "Run."

"Fallon, you need to get up," he whispers through gritted teeth, trying to balance her but she shakes her head. As terrified as she is, Fallon knows how this works. She has seen enough of the Hunger Games to know that people don't come back from a spear in the side. She might have a few minutes left, but Cade will join her if he doesn't leave right now. Fallon doesn't want to be alone, but she knows that she has to be.

"Go, please," she says, each word stirring up the burning in her side. Cade stands, tears spilling down his cheeks that he doesn't bother to wipe away. He gives her one last look as he takes a sharp right turn. Then he's gone.

"Where are they?" The voice is the loudest thing Fallon has heard since the last cannon fire. She turns to see, as expected, one of the Career boys. His face is streaked with mud and his eyes are ringed with red. It doesn't look like he has slept in a while. Fallon imagines that she looks similar, but it is shocking to see him like that.

Fallon feels like she is going to be sick. She shakes her head in an answer. She won't tell him where Cade went. He lets out a guttural scream and runs in vaguely the same direction Cade went. Fallon only lets out the breath she's been holding when she sees him turn left_. He won't find Cade_, Fallon tells herself. _He can still make it. _

She glances down at the spear, wondering how long it will take for the injury to kill her. Fallon doesn't think that the Career boy would just leave her. He'll want to hear her cannon. He will want to make sure the job is done. If it takes too long, he might come back. The idea of seeing those red, wild eyes staring down at her makes her turn and vomit the pitiful contents of her stomach. As scared as she is to die, she is more terrified that he will come back for her.

Fallon struggles to lift her hand and grip the weapon. It feels like every movement should be enough to kill her, but she still fights to breathe. Her fingers tremble as she uses all her strength to pull the spear from her side. Her vision blurs and she bites her tongue to prevent herself from screaming. Fallon closes her eyes. She concentrates on the metallic taste in her mouth and tries to think of home. It's hard to remember what it looks like anymore.

* * *

**17 Lost**


	18. 18 Lost

**18 Lost**

* * *

**Emersyn, 14, District 3**

After Shaw was killed by the District 7 girl, Emersyn knew that it was only a matter of time before she and Aerin split ways. It certainly wasn't because Emersyn didn't like the girl, but she just doesn't know how to deal with people like her. Aerin had cried for hours after Shaw's death, but Emersyn couldn't bring herself to shed more than a few tears. She had to think about this logically, after all that was the only way she knew how to think. Shaw is gone and she needs to continue without him.

Emersyn isn't proud of it, but last night she decided that no matter what she couldn't stay with Aerin. She slipped away with what little supplies she carried, a fair share of the leftover food, and only the fireflies to light her path. Emersyn still isn't certain that it was the best choice due to the fact that there is generally strength in numbers. However, she just couldn't bear the tears any longer.

She mindlessly scratches at a cut on her arm as she walks along the edge of the swamp. She keeps both eyes pinned to the waves, fully understanding the danger of being this close to the murky water that is bound to contain a whole host of muttations. Emersyn reasons that the more danger the water presents the less likely there are to be tributes hovering nearby. She is willing to swap the threat of tributes for the threat of mutts. Animals are a lot easier to understand than humans, even animals created by the Capitol.

Even for District 3, Emersyn knows that she is strange. Her mind thinks in streams of continuous images and ideas that pull together and apart again with each passing second. She would prefer to spend a day lost in thought than doing basically anything else. Emersyn never has needed the company of other people, she finds herself far more interesting on her own. The other kids would laugh and mock her, and Emersyn always told her parents it was no big deal when the school would call them about her. Emersyn smiles knowing that they never believed her for a second.

She knows that her parents worried about her never bringing home friends after school. They always meant well but they didn't understand. Sometimes Emersyn wonders if she chose to be alone or if the other kids made that choice for her. She supposes that it doesn't matter because she ended up here regardless. There is no choice in her life that could have swayed her along another path but the Hunger Games. Emersyn takes some comfort in knowing that it was inevitable she would be here right now, alone and staring at the swampy waters.

Numbers flash through her mind rapid fire. The number of days that have passed, the number of remaining tributes, the district numbers still represented in their pool. Emersyn has always preferred to think in pictures, numbers always felt so cold, but to think of their faces will make it so much harder to say goodbye. Emersyn needs to be cold right now as others like Aerin break down. It's the only edge she's got.

Emersyn tiptoes over the rocks, knowing that it would be too dangerous to stick her feet in the water but still allowing herself to wonder what the mud would feel like. The surrounding arena feels nothing like home and perhaps that is what fascinates Emersyn so much about it. The waters are muddy and the ground is uneven, like nature let every piece fall where it would like to live. Nothing at home is anything like that. It's all concrete and steel, placed in a specific way for a specific function. If it weren't so dangerous here, Emersyn thinks that she would enjoy living in a place like this.

She can feel eyes on her, but she does not turn around suddenly like she wants to. Instead, Emersyn turns slowly, scanning the jumbled landscape for anything different and takes a step away from the water without even meaning to. It's dark but the fireflies hover nearby, dozens more joining the ones she has walked with since the sun went down. Something is going to happen, she somehow knows this, and Emersyn just needs to find out what that something is.

It's the fireflies that give away the creature's location and the two small bumps sticking up from the water's surface. Emersyn thinks they must be the animal's eyes, but they are solid black even against the dark night and unlike any creature she has seen before. She swallows the breath in her throat, taking a second step back from the water. Her heart beats loudly in her ears but she forces herself to move slowly and purposefully. Emersyn instinctually knows that a sudden jerk would be more than enough to draw the animal's attention.

The eyes move closer and Emersyn lets out a whimper. Sweat runs down the back of her neck and goosebumps stand at attention all over her skin. She wants so badly to run but she just takes another slow step backwards, hoping that whatever the creature is it hasn't yet learned how to walk on land.

The muttation launches itself out of the water before Emersyn can find her next step. She screams at the sight of the creature now half out of the water and lunging towards her with the weight of its enormous body. It opens its mouth to reveal a line of thick teeth that quickly grasp her leg and pull her towards the water. Emersyn screams again and claws for grip in the soft ground but finds none. The creature pulls her into the water and rolls over her, forcing Emersyn to throw her hands over her head in one last attempt at protection. She tries to scream but her lungs take in water. She reaches for the muttation, prepared to fight her way out of its grip, but her hands cannot find it.

* * *

**18 Lost**


	19. 19 Lost

**19 Lost**

* * *

**Aerin, 16, District 11 Female**

If someone has lost their mind, would they know that their mind is lost and look for it?

Aerin can't remember the last thing that actually happened. It all feels too outlandish to be true, but surely some of it must be or what life is she living? Aerin scratches at a rash on her cheek. She can feel the bumps and the warmth that radiates from her skin, but she can't be sure what is really there. Aerin believes that she remembers brushing up against something but what that something is or what it left behind is anyone's guess. She could look in a mirror but Aerin isn't truly sure that those exist here. Truth be told, Aerin can't be sure where here even is. Her surroundings feel both strangely familiar and wholly unfamiliar. That couldn't make sense though, could it?

Aerin crouches under a tree that looks like it has been dead for a long time. She caresses the dry bark behind her and stares off towards the water. Her eyes are wide and her pupils nearly take them over completely. She cannot remember how she got here, but the cameras know Aerin has been in this location for several hours. The bright flowers growing in the dirt of the long-dead tree tell the story of what happened. She did not pay enough attention during survival training and the tribute has made a mistake. The salvia flowers will not kill the girl and the Capitol lost interest many hours ago. Still, the flower's effects linger.

Aerin looks around and wonders how she got to this strange place. She wonders whether she is lost and should be trying to be found again, but Aerin wouldn't know which direction to go. She thinks of Shaw and Emersyn, names that feel strange but familiar as she whispers them into the wind. Perhaps they can tell her where to go in order to be found. Aerin looks in all directions but there is no one around, but she feels like there should be someone here. Aerin doesn't think she's been alone forever.

She gets a sudden memory of a boy calling to her, but quickly Aerin realizes the boy couldn't possible be yelling because he is dead. She can see the blood on his skin as his body slumps to the ground. Perhaps it wasn't his voice at all, but then again Aerin thinks it must be him. The only other person around is a slight girl with long curls, and she is not yelling; she is crying far too much to be saying anything at all. _Shaw and Emersyn_, Aerin remembers but the moment of clarity flies away before she can grasp it. Those names feel right, though Aerin has no reason to believe that they are not just another trick.

"I miss them," Aerin whispers, her voice sounding far away like a bird singing softly from an orange tree. She inhales to smell the fruit but only the scent of wet land enters her nose, causing Aerin to cough. This isn't where she should be. Aerin knows she belongs with the oranges, not with the mud.

Aerin reaches down to touch the top of her stomach as it grumbles in protest at her stagnated position. There is nothing around to eat except the lilac flowers near her feet. Aerin reaches for them but they are too far away and she soon gives up. A murky puddle sits closer and Aerin cups her hands, sipping in the taste of metal and dirt along with the cool water. It feels good as it runs down her throat, but mud sticks to her tongue and Aerin wonders how it got there.

The girl doesn't look up to notice the tributes that approach her. The District 2 pair slink along the tree line, but when the realize she is not paying them any mind they get bolder. Aten walks straight up to her and eyes the pile of mud that she is tracing her finger through. His boot slaps down onto the ground and douses Aerin in mud and dead leaves. She looks up at them, but there is no recognition. Aerin does not think that she knows the pair, but as sweat runs down her neck she knows that she should fear them.

Daela sees the stems on the ground at Aerin's feet and picks one up, daintily twirling it between her fingers. "She's eaten the salvia flowers."

"Stupid," Aten spits down at the tribute, who flinches but makes no move to stand or run. Aerin doesn't know why the hair on her arm stands up the way it does. She stares up at the tributes as they laugh, not understanding what could possibly be so funny. If they're here they must be lost too, maybe they just don't know it yet.

Aten crouches and pushes the girl down into the mud. She tries to turn her head, but Aten just presses it further into the ground. Her arms thrash without a target as she tries to free herself, but even his one hand is enough to keep her pinned. Aten laughs and looks to Daela, but his district partner only crosses her arms over her chest and stares disapprovingly. He huffs and releases the girl, who pushes herself up onto her elbows and spits mud from her lips.

"It's too easy to mess with her," Aten shrugs.

"Then don't," Daela says simply. She flips the girl onto her back, wide eyes now staring skyward, and pulls a throwing knife from her pocket. Daela knows better than to toy with the weak ones. It's not what the Capitol wants to see and it only wastes her time when they should be looking for Lee. Aerin doesn't fight and Daela presses the blade across her neck in one clean line. Blood sprays from the wound but the girl remains motionless even before her cannon fires. If the girl does have the Capitol-augmented salvia in her system, Daela doubts she even felt a thing.

* * *

**19 Lost**


	20. 20 Lost

**20 Lost**

* * *

**Jada, 18, District 7**

Solitude is not new for Jada, but it feels bitter as the days drag on. Unlike a lot of the other tributes, Jada had no intention of joining an alliance. The only person she can depend on in the arena is herself. It's a lot like real life in this regard.

Jada has been out from under her parents' thumb for over two years, but their effect on her life has lasted all this time. It felt good to finally have a taste of freedom- her own job, her own home no matter how tiny, her own future to look forward to. That was all taken from her the second her name was called at the Reaping. Her future now is bleaker than her childhood, but at least there is some hope left. There are only five of them remaining and one will get to return home. The odds are still not fantastic but they're better than Jada let herself hope for before now.

Her legs cramp from hours perched in the highest branch that will hold her weight. The trees here are sparse but higher up they provide more cover than Jada found on the ground. She is no stranger to tree-climbing and, though she long outgrew the habit, it's been comforting to hold herself high above the rest of the arena. Jada has no doubt that there are other tributes who would be able to join her up here if they wished to, but no one could do so quietly. Even as exhausted as she is, Jada is a light sleeper and even the rustling of animals under her is enough to rouse her. Tributes can be heard from much further away and Jada has plans to deal with the ones that venture too close.

Jada is not a petite girl. She has never had the lithe, graceful body of her mother but instead the sturdy build of her father. Jada is tall and muscular, an asset when she was trying to find work back in District 7 but a target the second her name was chosen. Jada tried so hard not to stick out during training, but the charming girl from District 1 had other plans. Thinking back to that moment in the Training Center where all eyes spun to her as the other girl critiqued her fighting stance is almost enough to make her glad the girl is dead. She was too cocky for her own good and Jada knew she wouldn't win, but it was still painful to hear her harsh words. Jada was only trying to blend in but Vidia chose to pick her out and humiliate her when Jada already felt like she was as good as dead.

She flinches as the sloshing footsteps approach her, but Jada had seen them several minutes earlier. Aten and Daela, the District 2 pair and allies to that awful Career girl. Jada wasn't stupid enough to believe they hadn't seen her up in the tree, but somewhere deep down she had hoped they wouldn't. As Aten tilts his head up towards her, Jada pulls a knife from the pouch on her belt. This was the skill she spent so much time learning in the Capitol as the others focused on close-range fighting. Jada knew that distance would be her only advantage and luckily this arena had climbable trees. It was a gamble to focus so much when Jada had so little time, but it has paid off. She has the image of the tribute boy's corpse in her mind to prove it.

"Why don't you come down and make this easier on yourself?" Aten calls up and Jada shakes her head slowly. She isn't certain that they can see her expression from the thirty feet distance between them, but Jada fights to keep it neutral. There is no point in showing fear especially when tributes like these ones thrive off of it.

"Suit yourself," Aten shrugs and catches a blade between his teeth. He grabs for the closest branch and begins climbing, staring up at Jada for the first few feet but soon becoming more focused on keeping himself upright. The trees are climbable for those who are used to it, but the wet bark throws even her for a loop sometimes. No doubt the Career is struggling, but he is making decent headway.

Jada wraps her hand around the small knife, trying to stop the shaking in her hands as she prepares to take aim at the Career boy. His district partner, Daela, watches her intently and Jada knows that one shout from her will send Aten scrambling. She can't afford to miss. Jada traded a lot of bruises for this bundle of throwing knives at the Bloodbath but there are not nearly enough to waste. She lets out a slow breath and brings the handle close to her face, aiming quickly and sending the blade spinning towards Aten.

He drops from the tree with a shout as the knife plunges into his shoulder. Daela rushes beside him, but once it's clear the hit wasn't fatal she backs off. The Career stares up at Jada and she allows herself a slight smile. Her hands still tremble, the hit was not as accurate as she had hoped it would be, but it might be enough to deter them from trying again. Jada slides a second knife from her pouch, knowing that her aim from this far will be even worse if she is forced to try again.

Daela pulls an identical pouch from the back of her belt, keeping eye contact with Jada so she can see her expression change. Jada does not remember very much about Daela from training, but she is surprised to see her also carrying throwing knives. Many of the Career tributes opt for the more brutal weapons like swords and spears. Jada tightens her grip on the branches, looking up briefly to see if going higher might be safer. The thin branches wave in the wind over her head and Jada realizes that, while the trees have hidden her for this long, they are now trapping her.

The first knife sticks in the trunk a foot or so from Jada. Daela snarls, attempting to adjust her technique to shooting upwards but finding it more difficult than it should be. She is far more used to shooting horizontally, but Daela is patient. Jada has nowhere to go. Her second and third knives fall to the ground around her. It's the fourth that finally finds its target.

The tribute bites the fabric of her jacket to keep from screaming as pain erupts in her thigh. She can see the handle sticking out and fights the urge to dislodge it, knowing that this will only result in faster blood loss. The next blade bites into her hand and she lets go of the tree branch of a brief moment before grabbing it again to steady herself. The final blade lodges into her elbow and Jada's entire arm seizes up. One weak hand isn't enough to hold her to the branch and her body drops into the mud at Daela's feet.

The tribute doesn't move, but Daela still takes another knife and plunges it deep into the girl's throat for good measure. Blood spurts from the wound, but Daela has already turned her back on the girl. Aten grasps his injured shoulder but doesn't miss the chance to spit on the girl's body as he follows Daela. The sound of her cannon barely registers to the pair as they continue to search for the District 4 boy.

* * *

**20 Lost**


End file.
